Tested
by IMTheresa
Summary: John didn't always leave Sam and Dean with Jim or Bobby when he'd go off on hunts. What happened when the money ran out before John got back?
1. Chapter 1

**Tested**

Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them; I just like to borrow them once in a while.

**A/N**: I've been thinking off and on about what a young Dean might have had to do to take care of himself and Sam when left alone in motel rooms or shabby apartments. I went to some really dark places that intrigued and frightened me.

Recently I read a couple works in progress that got me thinking about the subject again and the first part of this story demanded to be written. Then I got cold feet and it was hard to keep going. A friend suggested that maybe I was trying to do too much with one tale. I thought about that and decided which story I really wanted to tell. It still wasn't easy because it's still pretty dark – even for me.

This is set sometime in the second season – it's after John's death and before Dean's deal, but the actual timing probably isn't that important. I didn't want to tackle the deal on top of everything else going on here. For regular readers familiar with other stories I've written, what I've come to think of as the "Scars stories" (_Scars Challenge, Scars from the Past and Haunted Memory_) did not happen in this Winchester world. _Breakdown _and _Let it Go_ did happen, though. Kristine makes an appearance, but as always, the focus is on the boys.

The story is basically finished, so new chapters will be posted fairly quickly. It will probably be broken into three, maybe four, sections.

I'd love to know what you think about this one. I'm nervous about posting it, but I'm doing it with the encouragement of a good friend. She also helped me keep this psychologically real and for that, along with everything else, I thank her.

oooOOOooo

Yeah they say there's a place free of trouble and care,

And you have to pass a test for, to make it there.

It has something to do with a road that's straight and narrow,

And the only way to go it is by being like them...

There's always one more hill to climb –

From the song _Tested_ by Bad Religion

oooOOOooo

Dean Winchester wasn't one to talk about significant, emotional subjects. He eschewed anything that even resembled a serious conversation as much as possible. He didn't want to remember a lot of the things he'd done in his life – he was proud of the things he'd accomplished as a hunter of evil, but the other things….It hurt to think about them and there was enough pain without going to look for more.

He couldn't say he regretted those things. Not exactly, anyway. He'd done what he had to so that Sammy would have what he needed and he couldn't be sorry for that. Maybe if it had just been him, if Dean hadn't had to worry about Sammy, he wouldn't have tried so hard, but his little brother was worth it.

Sammy was everything to his older brother and there was nothing Dean wouldn't do for him. There was no line he wouldn't cross. Of course, a lot of what he'd done he'd pushed so far down inside that it only came out in the occasional nightmare. Sam didn't know that Dean had nightmares and that's how Dean wanted it. Sam knew him better than anyone else in the world did, but there were things Dean had to keep even from him.

It wasn't that Dean was afraid his brother's feelings would change if he knew too much. He was confident that Sam loved him and always would. Mostly, anyway. But even if Sam did hate him for what he'd done, Dean wouldn't change anything. He'd done what he had to do to protect his little brother and to make sure he had what he needed. They'd grown up in a harsh world, but even now that Sam was an adult, Dean didn't want Sam to know the true horror of their childhood.

Dean glanced over at the bed where his brother now slept. It wasn't even dawn yet and the older man was wide awake. He'd had one of the infrequent nightmares and hadn't been able to get back to sleep. Sam had been exhausted when they fell into bed the night before and even the smell of the coffee brewing his morning didn't wake him. Dean was happy to let him sleep. It was comforting enough that he was in the room, but the nightmare had left Dean uneasy and he actually found himself wanting to talk to someone.

After a few minutes consideration, Dean pulled his coat on and slipped out of the room onto the balcony. It was actually little more than a shelf with a couple of old wooden chairs on it, but it would give him the privacy he needed. He took a sip of coffee while dialing a number on his cell phone. He hadn't expected the rush of emotion that came with the sound of her voice. He cleared his throat, forcing himself to speak.

"Hey, it's me. I hope I'm not calling too early."

"Hey, me." She sounded happy to hear from him. "How are you?"

He couldn't very well tell her how he was really feeling, so Dean tried to stuff it all away to sound normal. He was good at hiding behind the walls he'd built years ago and it was always easy slip behind them.

"Okay," Dean lied. "We just finished a job."

"Is everything all right?"

"Yeah. We sent another nasty ghost packing."

There were only a handful of people that Dean could be so open with about the paranormal. He and his brother were hunters, but not the usual kind. They didn't hunt animals; instead their targets were ghosts, demons and other things that most people thought were only a part of myths and legends. But Kristine knew about his life; she knew what he did and he could talk to her about it. Not everything, of course, because what he did was dangerous and she already worried enough about him.

"Well, good for you," she said with a smile in her voice. "Where are you?"

"Ohio. I, uh, I was thinking we could spend a few days with you. If that's okay, I mean."

"Of course it is. You know you're welcome here any time."

"Like the other hunters who come to the safe house?" Dean asked, knowing perfectly well that's not what she'd meant.

"Don't be an ass," she laughed.

Dean loved the sound of her laugh. He loved the sound of anyone's, really. He and Sam had so little to laugh about; so little to be happy about. What they did was dangerous and it was hard work. They didn't have a home. Instead they moved from town to town, living in one crappy motel after another. They didn't get paid for their work, so they had to live off of credit card scams and what Dean could win gambling. It's not that they needed much. They'd been raised without an appreciation for material goods, but some days it seemed like everything was a struggle.

They didn't have more than a couple of people they could call friends. They didn't get to just hang out with anyone; at least not without being on total guard the entire time. They could let go with each other. Most of the way. There were things Dean hid from Sam and he suspected there were things his brother kept to himself as well. Kristine Ryan was the one person, other than his brother, that Dean could be himself with. She'd even been in some of the places he kept Sam locked out of.

"Sorry, darlin', being an ass is what I do best."

"Are you okay?" she asked, her tone turning serious. "You don't sound like yourself."

"I'm okay," he said quietly.

"Sam's okay?"

"Yeah. I just…."

"You just what?"

"I'm tired. I haven't slept much and was too keyed up last night…I'm okay." He didn't sound believable; even to himself. And she knew him too well to be fooled by his lies. "Look, uh, I'm gonna jump in the shower and we'll take off when Sam is ready. I'll call you later okay?"

He heard her let out a breath and for a moment he was afraid she would ask him something he wouldn't want to answer. "Okay. Drive carefully."

"Always. I wouldn't want to hurt my car."

Dean flipped his phone closed and gripped it tightly in his hand. Some days he felt like he had such a fragile link to the world and right now, he just needed something to hold on to. He heard the sliding glass door open and he glanced at Sam as he stuck his head out of the room.

"What are you doing out here?"

"I didn't want to wake you."

"It's like a degree out here. Come inside before you get frost bite." Sam ducked back in and Dean followed him.

Sam poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down on the edge of his bed while Dean topped off his own cup. "Were you on the phone?"

"Yeah." Dean was struggling to sound nonchalant, but his head was spinning and he felt like he was going to crawl out of his skin. "I called Kristine."

"Are we going to North Carolina?" Sam asked, smiling.

"Do you mind?"

"Of course not. Why don't you drop me in Asheville so you can –"

"Dude, I'm not abandoning you anywhere. You're coming with me."

He saw Sam turn his head sharply toward him, an unasked question dying on his lips.

---

They were on the road within the hour with fresh coffee and bagels from a coffee shop they found right before the freeway entrance. Dean's choice of music told Sam even more than his silence did. Although he kept the volume low, the songs were angry. He tried to engage Dean in conversation, but he responded to questions with nods or only a few words. He barely looked at Sam and even when he did, his eyes were downcast as if he were ashamed of something.

Sam had seen Dean this way before, but he never knew what caused the mood and he'd not found a way to help Dean out of it. All he could do was wait until it was over.

"You want to stop for lunch?" Dean asked later.

Sam was surprised to hear his voice. Other than the music, which was now mournful, there had been no sound in the car. Sam had given up trying to get Dean to talk and Dean had made no attempt at conversation himself.

"Yeah, sure."

A few minutes later Dean parked the Impala outside a fast food restaurant. As they walked inside, Dean veered off toward the bathroom. "You know what I want."

Sam watched, worried, for a few moments before making his way to the counter.

---

"Okay, Dean." He'd made sure he was alone in the bathroom before starting a conversation with his reflection in the mirror. "It's not that bad and if you don't snap out of it, you're gonna have Sam all over you to talk. So. Get. Over. It. All that crap is in the past and doesn't matter any more. You did what you had to do and you got through it. Besides, it was just a stupid dream."

After staring at himself in the mirror for another few moments, Dean left the bathroom. Sam had claimed a table near the window so they could see the Impala and he already had their food laid out.

"Thanks, Sammy," he said, making an effort to appear normal. He didn't think he was fooling Sam, but at least his brother had the decency to pretend nothing was wrong. For now, anyway.

"Sure. I even got you extra onions. Kristine will love that."

Dean saw the smile playing on his brother's face.

"Unlike you," Dean said, trying to keep his tone light. "Kristine likes a good onion."

Sam looked at him, his brow creased. "I don't think I want to continue this conversation."

Dean smiled and realized he was beginning to feel better.

oooOOOooo

Kristine Ryan kept a house in a small North Carolina mountain town where hunters could come for rest and relaxation; they could get medical attention, counseling, information and a restocking of supplies.

The house was a part of the Ryan estate, left to her after her mother's death. Her family had been decimated by the same demon that had killed Mary Winchester and as the surviving member, Kristine wanted to do something for the hunters that were out there fighting evil things and helping people. She made herself available to the guests of the house and also worked part-time at a mental health clinic in nearby Asheville. She was in her office when Dean called again.

"Hey," she said, seeing his name on her cell phone's caller ID display.

"Hi. We're about two hours out."

"I'm stuck at work. One of my clients is on his way in for an emergency session. I'll probably get to the cottage about the time you do. If I'm not there, go in and make yourselves at home."

"Do you have beer?"

"Do I have beer?" she sounded incredulous.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to insult you. Gimme a call when you head out."

"Will do. See ya soon. Say hi to Sam for me."

Dean closed his phone and dropped it on the seat next to him. "She says hi."

"She's not at home?"

"No, she's in Asheville. She said she'll be home about the same time we get there. And she has beer."

"Thank God," Sam said without conviction, going back to the book he'd been reading.

---

"You want to just drop me at the estate house?" Sam suggested when the got into town. Kristine lived in what used to be the estate caretaker's cottage. It was on the edge of town, but still on the estate and separated from the main house by about a mile.

"I'm not abandoning you."

Sam looked at him. "Dude, that's the second time you've said that. I'm just trying to stay out of your way so you can have some time with Kristine."

"I appreciate that, but –"

"It's the estate house, not some cave."

"Yeah…."

"What's going on, Dean?" Sam asked after a moment.

"Nothin'," Dean insisted.

"Uh-huh."

Dean reached for the volume control to turn up the music, a sure indication that he was not interested in talking. A few minutes later, he parked in front of the cottage. Sam didn't want to argue with him about going to the main house; he could easily walk the distance anyway.

Kristine called a few minutes later to say that she was just leaving Asheville and suggested they meet at a bar in town called Mojo's. It was part of her family's holdings, but Kristine left its running completely to the manager.

Sam watched as Dean pretended to be in a good mood. He knew several of the regulars and it seemed like every one of them wanted to say hi. Dean shook hands, slapped backs and said hello to more people in a few minutes than he had in weeks. To the untrained, he was happy to be there and thrilled to see so many old friends, but Sam knew the truth. Dean was about ready to jump out of his skin.

"Hey, the nachos are getting cold," Sam said as he walked up to Dean and a couple of men he recognized. They had grabbed him when he went to the bar for a couple of beers. "You guys mind if I steal my brother back?"

After a few more jokes and some more slaps on the back and arm pats, Dean walked back to the table with Sam.

"Thanks, man."

"You okay?" Sam was smiling, but he was actually worried about his brother.

"Yeah," Dean took a swig of beer and grabbed a cheese-covered tortilla chip from the plate set between them. "I don't know how Kristine does it. All this _normal_."

"Everyone has a different normal."

"True."

Sam noticed that Dean's eyes had glazed over and he was staring at the bottle of beer in front of him. Sam knew that something was going on with him. He'd known it from the moment he found Dean sitting on the balcony outside their room that morning. But knowing his brother the way he did, Sam knew better than to push him to talk.

Their last job had been relatively non-eventful. It was a simple haunting and the only challenge had been to find where the body of the ghost had been buried so they could salt and burn the bones. He couldn't think of anything that might have triggered his brother's current mood.

Sam wondered if they'd come to North Carolina so Dean could talk to Kristine about whatever was bothering him. While he was happy that his brother had that kind of relationship with a woman – it was nice to know Dean had more use for women than one-night stands –he couldn't ignore that the thought also made him a little sad. The brothers had spent so much time together in their lives and had only each other to depend on for companionship….and Sam's own relationships had each ended with the death of the woman. He was glad that Dean had been able to let someone else into the fortress he'd built around himself, but Sam had to admit to being a little jealous.

Sam took a sip of beer and glanced around the room. It was a standard country bar with a worn wooden floor, tables and chairs made to look old, and a small wooden stage with a dance floor in front of it. On the weekends, a house band played a mixture of country music and Southern rock. The juke box in the corner was stocked with the same kind of music along with some classic rock for added spice.

Sam realized that he liked it here. Not just the bar, but the town itself. It was comfortable and he liked that people knew him and his brother. This was just the kind of place he'd wished they'd grown up in and he was glad they visited as often as they did.

His attention went back to Dean when Sam saw him gesture to the waitress for another beer. He'd not been sitting at the table very long and already finished his first drink. Sam tried not to worry, but something was definitely going on with his brother and he couldn't help but be concerned.

When Kristine arrived a little while later, Sam was surprised that Dean's mood didn't lighten. He smiled and kissed her as she sat at the table, but he didn't seem particularly happy to see her. Sam thought his own greeting was warmer, but Kristine didn't seem to notice.

The three ate dinner and while Sam managed to finish two beers, his brother had switched to something stronger and his speech became slightly slurred.

"I'm about ready to head out," Sam said. "Is there a room at the estate house I can use?"

"Of course. I talked to Ross about it after Dean called this morning."

The safe house was staffed with trusted employees 24 hours a day so that whenever anyone arrived, announced or not, there was someone to make sure he or she was taken care of. Most everyone in the small town knew that Kristine had opened some type of treatment center at the estate, but no one had become overly curious about it. Maybe it was her family's position in the town, or their affection for Kristine in general, but whatever it was, Sam knew she was grateful.

Ross Greenfield had been a hunter until an injury forced him out of the game. He was basically the manager of the safe house and made the decisions when Kristine couldn't be there to do it. They jokingly referred to those times as when she was off living her real life. Ironically, though, the world of the hunter was where she felt more at home. She and Sam had talked about that a lot when they first met. It hadn't been long after Jessica's death and he'd been headed toward a nasty breakdown. Dean had taken him to the one place he knew for sure that Sam could get help.

"Thanks," he turned to Dean. "Can I have the keys?"

Dean reached into his pocket and as he handed the keys to his brother, he grabbed Sam's wrist and looked into his eyes.

"You be careful, okay?"

Sam knew his curiosity had to be showing on his face. "Dean…."

The older man pulled away and rolled his shoulders. "You know; don't scratch the paint."

"Right," Sam said, knowing that something else entirely had been on his brother's mind.

Sam saw Kristine glance from him to Dean before suggesting that they take off, too. Dean didn't protest and as Sam followed them to the door, he couldn't help but notice the slight sway to his brother's step.

"Oh, crap," Kristine groaned as she stepped outside. "I forgot my coat. I'll be right back. Have a good night, Sam."

"Thanks, you too." He looked at her, hoping she could see the gratitude on his face. She smiled slightly before turning back toward the bar.

He and Dean walked toward the Impala; Kristine's car was parked only a few spots away. Sam leaned against the door and looked at his brother. "Hey, Dean?"

"Yeah?" Dean leaned against the car, too, but Sam knew it was to keep from falling down. He didn't expect to get much out of him, but wanted to take advantage of the few minutes alone that Kristine had given them.

Sam looked off into the distance. "What was that inside?"

"I told you. Don't scratch my car."

"I don't believe that's what you meant."

"Look, man, I'm tired and I'll admit to being a little drunk. You can't hold me responsible for anything right now."

Sam turned to face him. "Just tell me you're okay."

"Sam…."

"I mean it, Dean. And tell me the truth."

Dean sighed. "You'll believe what I tell you?"

"If it's the truth."

"Don't do this tonight, Sam."

That surprised the younger man and he had no idea how to react. When Dean looked at him, Sam saw pleading in his eyes that was rarely there.

"Look, I'm just tired, okay? Tired and drunk and I really just need not to be standing up anymore."

Just then, Sam saw Kristine coming out of the bar door. He nodded toward her, then reached out to grab Dean as he began to slide to the ground.

"Hold on, there, Dean. I got ya."

"Door's open," he heard Kristine call as she rushed toward them. Sam helped Dean to her car and poured him into the passenger seat.

"You okay, Dean?" Sam asked as he crouched beside the car.

His head was resting against the seat and his eyes were closed. "I will be once the hangover is gone tomorrow."

Sam laid a gentle hand on his arm. "I'll come to the cottage in the morning, okay?"

Dean nodded. "G'night, Sammy."

Sam stood up and closed the door carefully. "Are you going to be able to get him inside or do you want me to follow you home?"

"We'll be all right, but you're welcome to stay with at my place tonight."

"No, thanks. I have a feeling we're here for a reason that has nothing to do with my being with Dean."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know," he smiled sadly.

"I could tell something was going on with him when he called this morning. What's up?"

"Like I said; I don't know."

Kristine nodded. "Okay…."

"I'll come by in the morning."

"I have to leave around 8:30 to go to the clinic for a few hours."

"I'll come by before 8:30, then. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Sam." Kristine said. Sam noted the concern and confusion in her voice. He wished his could set her mind at ease, but all he could do was smile and walk back to the Impala.

Sam watched as Kristine drove out of the parking lot and followed a moment later.

He had no idea what was going on with his brother, nor did he really understand his relationship with Kristine, but he hoped she could help. He knew about her family history with the demon; he'd even had a vision about her once that led him and Dean to a complicated set of clues she'd left for them. Her brother-in-law, Patrick, had been possessed and was determined to kill her. They'd been able to save her, but not Patrick. Once the last member of her immediate family was gone, she'd slipped into a very dark place, but as far as Sam knew, she was all right now.

Dean didn't talk about her much and he certainly wasn't monogamous, but Sam knew he felt something for Kristine that for any other person in any other life would be love. He knew his brother was capable of love, but he was very bad at being loved. Dean didn't think he was worth a second glance from anyone for anything more than a one-night stand. Sam realized, though, that even his pursuit of the ladies had diminished somewhat and he wondered if that had anything to do with how he felt about Kristine.

Ross met Sam at the door of the estate house with a smile. He had known Sam's father, though not very well, and was always happy to see the man's sons. Sam suspected he was just as welcoming to the other hunters who found their way to the safe house.

"We've only got a couple of guests right now," Ross said as he led Sam to one of the bedrooms upstairs. "They've mostly been keeping to themselves."

Sam knew that a lot of guests, as Ross called them, were used to keeping a low profile and tended to do the same even at a place exclusively for hunters. That wasn't always the case; some hunters liked the freedom of being themselves in a place where they felt safe to do so. No one was forced to do anything he or she didn't want to, though.

Everything provided at the safe house was free of charge. Though he and Dean hadn't realized it when they were growing up, there was a network of sorts and underground help of just about every kind was available to hunters who needed it. Kristine had become a part of that network, though earning the trust of the community hadn't been particularly easy. Sam knew she enjoyed helping where she could and he was glad that people like her were in the game. Hunting was a lonely existence and it helped to know there was back-up.

After making sure Sam had everything he needed for the night, Ross went to his own room. Sam was tired and he quickly got ready for bed. Once he was under the warm blankets, though, he found he couldn't sleep. He was worried about Dean, which he often was, but something about this time seemed different. It wasn't unusual for Dean to drink to excess after a job, especially when Sam was around to make sure he didn't do anything too stupid, but it surprised Sam he'd done it their first night in town. He didn't get to spend a lot of time with Kristine and it seemed odd to Sam he would willingly waste even one night with her.

oooOOOooo

Getting Dean into the cottage was no easy task, but this wasn't the first time Kristine had had to get his drunk ass into the house. She'd actually left him in the car overnight once, but that hadn't turned out well for her upholstery. She'd also been driving a bigger car then and didn't think Dean would appreciate being left in a two-seater sports car. Getting him upstairs to the bedroom was even more difficult, but he'd woken up enough to at least be a little help. He was even able to undress himself and crawl into bed on his own. Mostly.

Kristine pulled the covers up over him and gently touched his face. Dean snuggled under the blankets and let out a soft sound that might have been a whimper. She watched him for a moment, then went to the bathroom to get ready for bed herself.

She loved having Dean at the house. He was safe and comfortable and there was very little she had to hide from him. He knew most of her dark secrets; he knew the big ones, anyway. It hadn't been her intention to let him get that close, but there had been an immediate attraction that quickly grew into something more once they'd accidentally realized their common history with the yellow-eyed demon. It had been such a relief to talk to someone who understood the loss of a family member to something that most people had no idea even existed.

She tried not to analyze her relationship with Dean. It defied all explanation and made very little sense. Conventional sense, anyway. They didn't define what they felt for each other, nor what they expected. She knew he had sex with other women and, oddly, that didn't bother her very much. She'd had her own adventures with other men, but after her last foray into what she always thought of as the dark hole, she'd only been with Dean. Sex had been survival for her for too long and she was tired of it being a sport. Being with Dean was different, but she didn't expect him to feel the same way.

Kristine came back into the bedroom and set the alarm. She crawled into bed next to Dean and he moved toward her, but didn't wake. As she drifted off to sleep, she thought about the worried expression on Sam's face and what he'd said about them being here for a reason. She didn't know what he'd meant and, honestly, she was a little afraid to find out.

When the alarm clock began to beep the next morning, Kristine shut it off quickly so it wouldn't wake Dean. She hadn't needed to worry since he wasn't in bed next to her. She found him downstairs on the couch with a large cup of coffee clasped in his hands. He definitely looked like he'd seen better mornings, but not as bad as she had expected.

"Hey," she smiled, intentionally keeping her voice low.

He glanced at her briefly. "Hey."

"Is there more coffee or did you pour it all into that trough?"

"There's more."

Kristine went into the kitchen and poured some coffee into a smaller, but still substantial mug and returned to the living room. She sat across from Dean in one of what had been her mother's wing-back chairs. Despite their formal appearance, they were actually very comfortable recliners. She set the mug on the coffee table and leaned forward.

"How bad do you feel?"

"I've been worse. I – uh – I'm sorry about last night."

"There's nothing to be sorry about."

"Sam went to the main house?"

Kristine nodded. "Yeah. I have to go to Asheville today and he said he'd be here before I go."

"How worried is he?"

"I don't really know. What do you remember about last night?"

"He had to keep me from falling to the ground in the parking lot."

"That was about the extent of it. No harm, no foul."

Dean nodded, clearly distracted. Kristine took a few sips of her coffee while they sat in silence. It wasn't comfortable or uncomfortable; it just _was_.

"I need to get ready. You know you can help yourself to anything in the kitchen. I'd stay away from the moldy thing in the back of the fridge, though."

Dean grimaced.

"Sorry." She smiled and moved to kiss him gently before heading back upstairs.

Dean drank more of the coffee until his stomach started to protest. He heard the shower start upstairs and a few minutes later, he saw the Impala through the big living room window. He slowly made his way to the front door knowing Sam wouldn't just walk in.

"I didn't expect you to be awake," Sam said a he walked past Dean and into the house.

Dean considered putting on the game face and pretending he was all right, but he just didn't have the energy. Instead, he led Sam into the living room and sat back down on the couch. "I really hate it when bed spins wake me up. There's probably still coffee in the kitchen. If not, make more."

---

Sam had been to Kristine's several times before and knew his way around the small house. He'd helped make meals before and had made coffee more than once, but that was always when Kristine was nearby. Even though he knew she wouldn't mind, he felt uncomfortable in her kitchen alone. He had to admit, though, this was the one room in the house that felt the least like her.

Her disdain for cooking was well known and beer took up more room in her refrigerator than food did. There was tequila and whiskey in cabinets where Sam would have expected to find cereal or maybe some other dry goods. The coffee maker was state of the art and the coffee gourmet, but other than a package of Oreo cookies, the other little bit of food was store brand and seemed to be chosen hastily.

Feeling guilty for snooping, Sam set the coffee maker and went back to the living room. Dean was still on the couch, but now he was lying down and appeared to be asleep. Sam sat in one of the chairs and watched him.

"Stop it."

"Stop what?" Sam asked, feeling like he'd gotten caught taking cookies.

"Stop staring at me."

"Sorry. Coffee's on. How do you feel?"

"Pretty much like crap." Dean opened one eye and turned to Sam. "Thanks for not letting me hit the ground last night."

"Anytime, man."

"You're not pissed at me?"

Sam leaned forward. "Why would I be pissed at you?"

Dean closed his eye and settled further into the couch. "I don't know."

Before Sam could say anything else, Kristine came downstairs. She was dressed in a conservative pantsuit rather than the jeans and t-shirt she preferred. Her shoulder length light brown hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail.

"Hey, Sam." She said and smiled. "Is that fresh coffee I smell? Bless you."

"Can you top me off, Sammy?" Dean asked, his voice low.

"Sure." Sam took the enormous cup into the kitchen.

He saw Kristine pouring coffee into a commuter mug. He set Dean's cup on the counter and pulled another from the cabinet.

"I can't believe Dean was able to drink that much coffee and he wants more," she said, shaking her head. "What the hell is his stomach made out of?

"I've been wondering that for years." Sam smiled. "I think he'll be back asleep before too long. Was he okay last night?"

"He woke up enough for me to get him into bed. He didn't say anything if that's what you're wondering. Did something happen on this last job?"

"No. It was the easiest thing we've done in months. He was fine when we turned in, but the next morning…."

"Well, you know how he is. He'll talk when he's ready. I need to get going. I'll probably be back around 3:00, but I need to put some time in at the main house. There isn't much here, but you're welcome to whatever you can find. Of course the main house is fully stocked and you can help yourself."

"Don't worry about us."

He stood in the doorway as Kristine kissed Dean on the forehead. "I'll see you late this afternoon, okay? Today's the last day I have to go into Asheville for a while."

Sam didn't hear what his brother said, but it made Kristine smile. A moment later she walked out of the front door and Sam walked all the way into the room with two cups of coffee.

"You sure you want this?" he asked as Dean slowly sat up.

"Yeah. Is there anything to eat?"

"Oreos."

Dean smiled over the mug. "Figures. You want to head back to the main house? I need hangover food. Is there anyone staying there?"

"Ross said a couple of hunters were there, but I didn't see them."

Dean finished half of the coffee in his cup. "I'm gonna take a shower and then we can head out."

"Sure. I forgot to give you your bag last night, but it's in the car. I'll bring it upstairs."

"Thanks."

---

After eating scrambled eggs and toast in the main house, Dean found a movie neither one of them had seen before in the library. They settled on the queen sized bed in the room where Sam had slept to watch it, but Dean was asleep before it was half over. Sam turned down the volume and eased himself to a more prone position. He laid awake most of the night before and soon was asleep next to his brother.

---

Dean's eyes flew open as the last of the dream faded away. He was breathing hard and could feel the sweat on his forehead. He rolled onto his back and saw Sam sleeping next to him. It had been a long time since they'd shared a bed. It used to happen a lot when they were kids and he could vaguely remember climbing into his baby brother's crib often after their mother died.

He sat up slowly and quietly stood. He didn't want to wake Sam because the kid obviously needed the sleep, but also because he didn't want Sam to see him until he'd had a chance to get himself together.

Dean moved down the hall to the bathroom and locked the door behind him. He let water run into the sink, watching it swirl down the drain, before filling his hands and splashing his face. He avoided his reflection in the mirror until he'd gotten his breathing under control and his heart wasn't beating through his chest. He still looked bad, but he figured that Sam would just think it was the hangover.

He waited a few more minutes, forcing away the images he'd seen in the dream. Sam was still asleep when he got back to the bedroom, but he had rolled over to face the spot where Dean had slept. A warm feeling flooded through Dean's body and he gingerly sat on the edge of the bed. He put his hand on Sam's shoulder as he fought back tears.

"Just sleep, Sammy. I'll take care of you. I'll always take care of you."

Sam stirred and Dean jerked his hand away. He rubbed his face and a moment later Sam opened his eyes.

"Dean?"

"Yeah."

Sam rubbed his eyes and sat up. "What time is it?"

"Almost 3:00."

"Wow."

"No kidding."

"You okay, man? You're still looking kind of rough."

"Yeah, I'm okay. I want more coffee. You want coffee?"

"Uh, sure. I'll meet you downstairs; I'm gonna make a stop in the bathroom."

Dean went downstairs and was surprised to see Kristine in the kitchen with a man he didn't recognize. She smiled at him and introduced the two men using first names only. There were no 12-step program rules to follow at the safe house, but it was up to the hunters how much information they shared with each other. They tended to get along, but not all hunters were friends and if someone wanted to remain anonymous, Kristine was certainly not going to do anything to change that.

Dean poured coffee into two mugs and headed off to the den, meeting Sam as he came down the stairs.

"Kristine's in the kitchen with someone," he said and Sam followed him.

"You know who it is?" Sam asked as he took one of the mugs and sat on the couch.

"Some guy named Rob," Dean shrugged. He sat down in a large recliner and pulled out the footstool. He still didn't feel well, but he wasn't sure if it was from the hangover or the dreams. He was pretty sure he was hungry, though.

"You have plans with Kristine tonight?" Sam asked.

"Not yet. You wanna do something?"

"Dean," Sam looked at him. "You can spend time with me whenever. We're here so you can spend some time with Kristine."

"We're here for some downtime."

Dean saw his brother's curious expression, but looked away.

"Look, man, I don't need you to babysit me, okay?"

Dean didn't let Sam see the pain his words caused. He didn't understand why, exactly, it hurt to hear Sam say he didn't need a babysitter. Of course he didn't. He was a well-trained hunter who could certainly take care of himself. It wasn't even so much that Dean had spent most of his life taking care of Sam and felt unneeded. Sam needed him. Maybe not like when he was a kid and maybe not the same way Dean needed him, but the need was still there.

Even though Dean looked away from his brother, Sam must have seen something. He leaned forward. "Dean."

"Look, man, there's nothing going on here, okay? I'm fine. You're fine. It's all good."

---

Kristine joined them a few minutes later and after a some conversation about Kristine's day and Dean's hangover, she told them that she'd talked Ross into making dinner. In addition to his talents as a hunter and safe house manager, Ross was an excellent cook who came up with the most creative meals. There was always food available for the guests, but it wasn't every night that a real meal was prepared.

During the evening, Kristine saw how Dean never let Sam get too far away from him. He wasn't obvious about it, but in addition to knowing the brothers, she was a trained observer of human behavior. She watched people for a living and did it for fun at parties. She often had to represent her family at formal functions from town activities all the way up to those at the governor's mansion. She hated every moment of it and the only thing that made it tolerable was the people-watching.

The two safe house guests join them for the meal, which was something Kristine liked to see. They'd both been keeping to themselves since their arrival a couple of days before. After everyone felt more comfortable with each other, stories were told and information compared. It was like some weird, dysfunctional family get together.

Kristine knew that Dean trusted Sam's skills and she knew that he wasn't afraid something would happen to him here, but despite how he appeared to those who didn't know him, she could tell he was definitely on edge. She knew Sam felt it, too. Whatever had pushed his protective nature into overdrive had nothing to do with anything going on at the moment; Kristine was sure of that. What she didn't know was how to get him to talk about it. Even though that's what he'd come here to do, it wasn't something that would come easily for him.

Despite the amount of alcohol he consumed the night before, Dean wasn't shy with the beer before, during or after dinner. He didn't get anywhere near as drunk as he had, but he still put a surprising amount of alcohol away.

---

"I'm going to head upstairs to bed," Sam said later. After dinner, the party had moved into the den and lasted longer than he'd anticipated. "I want to read a little before falling asleep."

Dean nodded. He wasn't used to them sleeping in different places, last night notwithstanding. He'd barely noticed since he passed out on the way to the cottage. Even when Dean picked up some random woman, he was almost never spent the entire night away from Sam. They weren't tied at the hip and were both completely able to spend time apart, but an entire night separated was rare.

Sam looked at his brother and Dean found it hard not to flinch under his gaze. He wondered if Sam felt the same way about sleeping in different places as he did.

"Hey, uh, can you come up with me for a second?" Sam asked Dean after saying goodnight to Kristine and the others.

"Sure." When they got to the bedroom, Dean looked at his brother closely, though he stood across the room. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just….I'm used to you being in the next bed, not a mile away. I just wanted to say goodnight in private. As pathetic as that sounds."

Dean wondered if this was more for his benefit than for Sam's, but realized he didn't care.

"Look, Dean," Sam began in the tone that Dean recognized as the one he used almost exclusively for their most emotional conversations. "I know there's something going on with you and you'll talk to me when you're ready. But…."

"Come on, Sam. You're being way too serious here," Dean said, trying to defuse the situation. An emotional Sam was more dangerous to him than the worst demon.

Sam blinked a few times and nodded. "I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

"Sam…." Dean hesitated and then sat down on the bed. He clasped his hands between his knees. "Yeah, I guess there's something going on with me, but I don't know what it is. It's probably too much work and not enough fun. I don't want you to worry, though, okay?"

Sam sat down next to him. "Dean, you're my brother. If you're going through something –"

Dean shook his head. "I'm not going _through _anything. I just…I just need some downtime."

He saw the concern in Sam's eyes and he saw the affection. "Okay, Dean."

"I'll see you for breakfast, okay?"

_TBC_


	2. Chapter 2

**Tested**

Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: See chapter 1

**A/N**: Thanks for reading and for the comments. I appreciate you guys so much! This is where things start getting explained….hold onto your hats.

oooOOOooo

Bombarded by multiple choices twenty-four-seven,

Navigate your tangled web of logic compassion,

Guided by subconscious voices astute and sharpened,

Tested,

Tested, oh oh oh. –

From the song _Tested_ by Bad Religion

oooOOOooo

Dean woke up from another nightmare and lay on his back, a hand on his stomach, trying to calm himself. He didn't want to wake Kristine, but also didn't want to risk getting out of bed just yet. He was shaking, his breathing was rapid, and his heart beating hard. He wasn't sure he could actually stand because even lying down, his legs felt like rubber.

He couldn't remember ever having more than one nightmare every few months and now he'd had three close together. He didn't understand. A moment later, he had no choice but to get out of bed; his stomach started to roll and he could taste bile in the back of his throat. Hoping he didn't collapse to the floor, Dean pushed the covers aside and made his way to the half bathroom knowing he wouldn't be able to make it to the one down the hall.

He didn't feel much better once his stomach had been emptied into the toilet. He leaned back against the wall, his head resting on his knees. His skin was tingling. It wasn't the least bit pleasant; it was actually almost painful and he really just wanted it to stop.

He wrapped his arms around his legs and rocked back and forth slowly. He felt cold and alone. Kristine was right on the other side of the door and Sam was just down the road, but he felt like he was isolated from everyone.

After another few moments, Dean pulled himself up and splashed cold water on his face. He swirled mouthwash and almost gagged as he spit it out into the sink. He leaned against the counter, his arms shaking.

"Shit." He stared at his reflection. "What the fuck is wrong with you, Dean?"

A few minutes later he pulled open the door, grateful to see that Kristine was still asleep. He watched her for a moment, then slipped into his jeans and walked downstairs. He had an almost overwhelming desire to call Sam. No, what he really wanted was to go to the main house and slip into his room. He rested his head on his arms, folded on the table in front of him.

He hadn't turned any lights on, but the kitchen wasn't completely dark. He closed his eyes, trying to talk himself out of this unfamiliar state. He hated feeling weak. His dad hadn't tolerated weakness and his way of dealing with it in his boys had been to be harder on them. Dean lifted his head and looked out of the window. Maybe he should go for a run. Or clean the weapons. He should do something other than just sit in the kitchen being pathetic.

"Dean?"

He heard Kristine's voice behind him and he sighed quietly. He figured he'd come to North Carolina to talk, but he would have been fine with putting it off.

"You okay?" Kristine laid a hand on the back of his neck. He liked the feel of her skin on his. But not now. Not while he was feeling so bad about himself.

When did he ever really feel good, though? He did after a hunt; after helping some innocent person. But then he'd realize he was nothing special. He was just a loser who didn't deserve anything good in his life. He couldn't shake the visions he'd seen in his dream; the things he'd seen in real life. He couldn't blame these images on an overactive subconscious. These were things he'd seen for himself; up close and personal.

God, how had Sam survived the dreams about Jessica? He was tortured for months with them and Dean had only been having dreams for a few nights. He really was weak.

"Dean." She put her arms around his neck and rested her cheek against his.

She had to feel him shaking. Kristine was smart and it wasn't going to take long for her to realize that he was useless and she'd make him leave. That thought made him shake harder.

"Hey, what's going on?" Kristine asked gently while holding him more firmly.

Dean couldn't speak. He couldn't force words out of his mouth.

Kristine stayed with him, holding him close, but not speaking. She caressed his arm gently, kisses whispered against his cheek. Dean felt tears on his face but he didn't make a move to wipe them away.

He didn't know how much time had passed before he managed to whisper, "Please don't make me leave."

"Leave? Why would I make you leave?" she asked, still keeping her voice soft.

"Please." Dean closed his eyes.

"I'm not going to make you leave, Dean. But I need you to talk to me."

"I can't."

"Do you want me to call Sam?"

"No! God no, please."

"Shhh…okay, Dean. I won't call him."

Dean felt her arms wrap more tightly around him. He caressed her arm, almost compulsively.

"You know about the horrible things I've done," she whispered into his ear. "You know about the hospitals I've been in, you know about the drugs and the men….the cutting. You didn't judge me. Dean, what makes you think that I'll judge you?"

He was confused. Did Kristine already know? How could she? Damn, he was so cold. Even with Kristine's arms around him, he was cold.

"Please talk to me, Dean. Tell me what's going on."

"Nightmares."

"You've been having nightmares?"

"Just for three or four nights, but they're bad."

"They must be. Tell me about them."

Dean shook his head.

"They're just dreams."

He shook his head again.

"Tell me."

Dean took her hand and unwrapped her arms from around him. He could feel her resistance, but she let him lead her to the chair across from him. She sat down, but held onto his hands. Even though the room wasn't lit, there was enough coming from the full moon that he could see her face clearly. He didn't see any fear or judgment in her eyes; all he saw was concern and affection.

---

Kristine knew how Sam and Dean grew up. She knew that John had left him with people he trusted when he could, but all too often he'd left them alone in motel rooms. Sometimes they ran out of money or food if a job ran longer than John thought it would. Dean was a capable kid, even before he hit double digits, but he was still just a kid.

They'd talked a little bit about it before, but Dean always shied away from the subject. He didn't like to talk about himself anyway, but about this subject in particular. Somehow, though, she knew that this was the exact topic that was causing Dean so much pain right now.

She knew she couldn't push Dean to talk, but that she had to encourage him. He had to feel safe or he would disappear behind his walls again and push the pain deep down inside him. It wouldn't go away; it would just come back again and probably even stronger.

Kristine squeezed Dean's hands and rubbed them with her thumbs. He was staring at the table, but made no move to pull away from her.

"Tell me about the nightmares," Kristine said quietly.

"I can't. I don't want to. They're not just nightmares; these things really happened."

"Dean, you know that when you keep pushing things away and not dealing with them they gain power over you. If you just talk about this stuff….Are you afraid that they'll change the way I feel about you? Or how Sam feels about you?"

"Sammy can never know this stuff."

"Your brother loves you, Dean. Nothing will change that."

"He already feels guilty about so many things. I don't want to add to that."

"So, tell me then."

Kristine felt his hands grip her tighter.

"I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

"I don't know what this is," Dean said. "Between us, I mean. But I don't want to fuck it up. I don't want you to hate me or –"

"Hold on, Dean. After all that stuff I told you – do you honestly think I could hold anything against you?"

He shrugged, still staring at the table.

Kristine could feel she was losing him, so she decided to take a more direct route.

"Is this about stuff you had to do when you were a kid?"

Dean looked up sharply.

"We've talked a little about it," Kristine said. "Is that what you've been dreaming about?"

"Yeah." Dean took a deep breath. "I was at a convenience store the other day. Sam and I were working a gig; trying to find a body that needed to be salted and burned. Sam was doing research and I went to get us something to eat. There was a kid sitting outside of the store; looked like he was in kinda rough shape. His clothes were dirty, his hair was long and stringy….He couldn't have been more than 10 or 11. I heard him ask a woman who was coming out of the store for money. She just shook her head and walked away. I saw the look on his face….He glanced off in the distance and I followed his gaze. There was another little kid sitting on a bench at the bus stop – a little girl. She was maybe six. I gave him some money and that was it."

"That's when the dreams started?"

"Yeah. Pretty pathetic, huh?"

Kristine saw the nervous smile. "No, it's not pathetic."

"I guess it just reminded me of when Sammy and I were kids. Most of the time, we were okay. Dad left us with plenty of food and money when he didn't drop us at Pastor Jim's or Bobby's. But sometimes…."

"He'd be gone longer than he expected."

Dean nodded. "I got pretty good at scamming people. I guess I'm a natural born hustler. But once in a while it got bad and I had to do more than scam."

Dean pulled away from her and almost seemed to fold into himself. He looked very small sitting across the table from her.

"Sammy got sick once and I didn't have money for medicine. I tried to call Pastor Jim, but he was away at some convention or something. I don't know where Bobby was, and Caleb was with Dad….I didn't know what to do; I didn't want to leave Sammy alone for too long and I thought about stealing what I needed, but I wasn't real good at that yet and if I got caught and they tried to call Dad…."

Dean's eyes had gone blank, his posture slack. Kristine wasn't even sure if he remembered that she was in the room, so she sat quietly and waited for him to continue. A moment later he took a deep breath.

"I called Dad's number, this was before cell phones, but he had a number for messages. I was afraid something had happened to him when he didn't call back. He missed his normal phone call later, too and Sammy was just getting worse. I went out to the drug store to see if I could get someone to buy me the medicine and I was still thinking about just taking it….I took a shortcut through this park – lots of drug dealers and shit at night, but it was the shortest way. A guy offered me $20 to jack him off. That was a lot of money for me then. All I thought of was being able to buy the medicine and maybe some ice cream for when Sammy felt better."

"How old were you?"

Dean shrugged. "Maybe twelve. Or eleven; I don't remember for sure."

"That had to be scary for you."

He shrugged again. "I didn't think about it much. I did it, he gave me the money and I went to the store. Dad got home the next day all freaked out because he'd gotten my message about Sammy."

"And that's what you've been dreaming about?"

"That and other stuff. I started hanging out in places like that park when Dad was gone so I could get money to save up. I got older and…."

"And you got different offers?"

"Yeah. But I never did anything more than hand jobs and that stopped when…."

"When what, Dean?"

"When I realized that I liked it."

That wasn't exactly what Kristine had expected to hear, but she managed not to react.

"You know I like girls, right?" he was looking down at the table again.

"I don't think what you were doing was about sex. It was about power. You were in charge – for a few minutes at least. You called the shots."

Dean didn't respond.

"What's wrong with liking it?"

The question seemed to take Dean by surprise, but he didn't answer immediately. A moment later he took a deep, shaky breath. "I didn't want to be in charge, Kristine. Dad left me in charge when he'd go away and it was scary. I was so afraid a hunt would go wrong and he'd never come back. Or that something would happen to Sammy while he was gone that I wouldn't be able to handle."

"But you did handle it, Dean."

"I guess."

"You're here, Dean, and so is Sam. You did more than any little boy should ever have to.'

"What about when I got older?"

"What about it?" she asked, confused.

"Not all towns have pool halls, but they all have men willing to pay for sex."

"I thought you said –"

"I did. I said I never did anything other than hand jobs. Sometimes blow jobs….One guy took me into the woods when I was 20. Said he wanted a blow job, but he changed his mind and wanted more. When I said no, he….He didn't take no for an answer. I should have been able to get away. He was probably 20 years older than me, overweight, slow. Dad always insisted Sammy and I stay in shape and train, but somehow the guy got me down and…."

Dean wrapped his arms around his waist and began to rock in the chair. Kristine hated to see him in so much pain. She wanted to hold him, but she wasn't sure that was the right tactic. And she wasn't sure if it was more for his benefit or for her own.

"It was horrible; the worst pain I ever felt. But the thing is, I sorta liked it, too." Dean stopped rocking, but he didn't move his arms and he didn't meet Kristine's eyes. "Sometimes I still do."

Kristine knew there were other women, but she'd never thought about there being men as well. But she knew that she had to put that aside for later thought because this wasn't about her or their relationship; this was about Dean. She didn't have the chance to say anything before he continued.

"But I would rather be with you."

"Dean –"

"I miss you when I'm not here. I said before that I don't know what this is, but I like it. It feels right."

"You don't have to worry about my feelings right now, Dean. This isn't about us. Look, you need to be okay with your past. You were put in a horrible place when your dad was gone and you did what you had to. If you got a little pleasure from it along the way, well what the hell is wrong with that? And if you like sex in, well, less conventional ways than some, is that so wrong? I mean, there are lines, but two men together consensually doesn't cross any of them in my opinion."

"Thanks," Dean muttered. "You see why I can't tell Sammy any of that stuff?"

"Honestly? No. Dean, this is eating you alive and I think part of the reason is because you're so desperately trying to keep it from him."

"What am I supposed to do? Next time I see Sam, say hey, Sammy, guess what? I used to jack men off for money when we were kids."

"Dean."

"He can't know about this stuff. Especially the stuff I still do."

"What are you going to do, Dean? Stuff it all away again?"

"I told you about it."

Kristine leaned forward. "Yes, you did. Thank you for trusting me with it."

Dean glanced at her. "You don't hate me?"

"Of course not," she assured him. She laid a hand on the table and a moment later, Dean covered it with one of his.

"How am I supposed to tell Sam when he already hurts about so many other things that aren't his fault? And why? Just to make myself feel better?"

"To give yourself some peace. Sam loves you, Dean. He wants to understand you; he _wants_ you to talk to him."

"It's late," Dean said, clearly shutting down for the time being.

"Let's go back to bed," Kristine agreed, knowing Dean had gone as far as he could for now.

---

Dean pulled Kristine into his arms once they were in bed. She rested her head on his chest and he kissed the top of her head gently. He knew that he could trust her with almost anything and he had to admit that he felt better having talked about some of the things he'd done as a child. He felt very close to her right now and so grateful that she hadn't turned her back on him. In a flood of emotion, he lifted her chin and began to kiss her passionately.

She slipped her hand under his t-shirt and the feel of it on his skin sent a wave of heat through him. Things progressed and soon Dean was on top of her, beyond conscious thought. Every move was instinct. But suddenly he felt a cold blast in his stomach as flashes of memory forced themselves on him. At first he tried to ignore them, but it wasn't long before they overtook him.

"Dean?" He rolled onto his back and Kristine lifted herself up on one elbow to look at him. "What's wrong?"

"I…." he got out of bed and put his pants back on. "I'm sorry."

"Dean!" she called as he rushed out of the room. She followed quickly, moving even faster when she heard a crash from the living room. "Dean?"

---

When she got downstairs, Kristine saw Dean sitting on the floor, an end table was overturned and the few trinkets it had held were strewn about. He was sitting cross-legged near the mess, not appearing to be hurt. She slowed and approached him carefully.

"Dean?"

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry."

She sat on the floor across from him, mimicking his stance. "There's no reason to be sorry. What happened?"

"Sammy…." Dean got up quickly. "I have to make sure Sammy is okay."

"Dean, wait." Kristine got to her feet and rushed after him as Dean grabbed his coat from the closet next to the front door.

She held his arm and he jerked away, whirling around to face her. "I have to make sure Sammy's okay!"

Kristine looked into his eyes, afraid when she saw they were glassy. She didn't think he was completely with her at the moment and she was suddenly very worried. "Dean, Sam is up at the main house. He's fine."

"I have to see my brother." Dean opened the door and sprinted outside before Kristine could stop him. A dusting of snow had fallen but she didn't think his bare feet registered the cold.

"Dean, wait!" she ran after him and saw him patting his jacket pockets, probably in search of the car keys.

She stood between him and the car. "Listen to me, Dean. Sam is at the estate house; he's probably asleep. If you go rushing in like this, you're going to scare him. How about we go back inside and call him on the phone?"

"You don't understand!"

"Then explain it to me." She struggled to keep his tone neutral. This kind of thing was so much easier with her patients.

He didn't speak, but his chest heaved as he took several deep breaths. She carefully made her way to his side and touched him gently. "Dean."

"I need my brother, Kristine. I need to see him and make sure he's okay."

"Okay. But at least go inside and put on some shoes. How about you call his cell phone first?"

"His cell phone….Yeah, his cell phone."

Dean let Kristine lead him back inside, but she couldn't stop him from going right to the telephone. She knew the call would scare Sam, but not as badly as his panicked brother rushing into his bedroom. He struggled with the buttons on the phone and in what looked to be total frustration, he threw the cordless receiver onto the couch. Kristine saw that his breathing was shallow and a sheen of perspiration was on his forehead.

"What's wrong with me?" he asked, shaking.

"I think it's a panic attack, Dean. Take deep breaths." She approached him slowly and took his hands. "Sit down."

Dean let her lead him to the couch and he sat down, struggling to breathe. She spoke to him softly, reassuring him, and several minutes later, he was calm again. He leaned his head against the back of the couch, eyes closed and a stray tear rolled down his cheek, seemingly unnoticed.

"I appreciate everything you've done tonight, Kristine," he said quietly, his voice low and gravelly, "But…."

"You need your brother." She smiled at him and reached for the telephone Dean had thrown to the couch before. He looked at her, unspoken gratitude in his eyes, but he made no move to take the phone. Kristine dialed Sam's cell phone number and he answered quickly, almost as if he'd been awake and waiting for the call.

oooOOOooo

Sam arrived at the cottage a few minutes later and after a moment of hushed conversation with him near the front door, Kristine went upstairs. Sam wasn't entirely sure that Dean hadn't fallen asleep; his head was on the back of the couch and his eyes were closed. He sat on the coffee table; his right knee gently touching Dean's left.

"Hey, Sam." Dean's eyes didn't open.

"Hey. How're ya doin'?"

"What did Kristine tell you?"

"Nothing much. She said you had a panic attack; that's never happened before."

"Sam…." Dean opened his eyes and looked at his brother. Sam wasn't quite sure how to read his expression, but he saw the tears that welled in his eyes. "I…."

"You know what?" Sam began when Dean's eyes closed again. "If you don't want to talk right now, that's okay. We can just sit here or whatever."

"I'm sorry, Sammy."

"What for?" Sam asked.

"Brining you over here this early in the morning when –"

"Dean, I'm your brother. If you just need me in the room, that's where I'm gonna be."

Dean surprised him by reaching out and laying a gentle hand on the side of his face. "I'm just so tired."

Sam covered his brother's hand with one of his own. "Then go to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."

_TBC_


	3. Chapter 3

**Tested**

Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**: See chapter 1

**A/N**: Well? Shocked? Angry? Disappointed?

Thanks to everyone who has read so far!

oooOOOooo

You can play by the rules, or bend them to your needs.

But the test isn't over till you reach your dark eternal sleep.

There are no absolutes, no big wheels in the sky...

You don't have to be first, just to get a sundown goodbye

From the song _Tested_ by Bad Religion

oooOOOooo

It was almost 3:00 when Dean got out of bed. He showered and dressed in clean clothes before heading to the first floor. He paused at the top of the staircase, listening for noises from below. He heard what he thought was the television and he wondered if Sam was still at the cottage.

Stopping halfway down the steps to glance through a window, Dean noticed that Kristine's car wasn't parked where it had been the day before and when he finally got to the first floor, he saw Sam sitting on the couch. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

"Hey," Dean said, feeling uncharacteristically uncomfortable alone with his brother. He sat down on the opposite end of the couch.

"Hey." There was no anger in Sam's voice and Dean found it odd he had expected there to be.

"Where's Kristine?"

"She's probably still at the estate house. She was going there, and then to town to run some errands."

Dean nodded. He had yet to really look at his brother.

"Are you hungry?" Sam asked. "The owner of the inn brought some food over earlier."

Kristine's family had owned a bed and breakfast for several years. The manager had been a good friend of Julia's, Kristine's mother, and became the legal owner of the inn following Julia's death. She was one of the few people who knew the truth about how the people in the Ryan family had died and she even helped out at the safe house when she could.

At the mention of food, Dean's stomach growled and he realized it had been several hours since his last meal.

"Yeah. Have you eaten?"

"A while ago."

"Okay." Dean stood up and walked into the kitchen, wondering if Sam felt the tension that he did.

He was pulling containers out of the refrigerator when Sam walked into the kitchen. Dean was grateful for his presence, but he also felt very uneasy. He couldn't explain it other than it was coming from the fear that Sam would want to talk about what was going on. He wasn't ready to talk about it; he didn't know if he ever would be.

He still hadn't told Kristine everything and he wasn't convinced that her departure from the house had been just to run errands. Under normal circumstances, Dean would realize that she was giving him time with Sam, but there was nothing normal about what he was going through right now.

"The lasagna is really good," Sam said as he leaned back against the counter. "But there's fried chicken and meatloaf, too."

Dean looked through the various food choices and decided on a large chicken breast. He put it on a plate and put everything back into the refrigerator, not bothering with any side dishes. When he moved to the table with a soft drink and plate in hand, he noticed the worried expression on Sam's face. A moment later, Sam joined him at the table with his own soft drink.

Even as large as the piece of chicken was, Dean would normally eat a lot more. He knew the mostly empty plate was a concern to his brother, but the thought of anything else to eat just didn't appeal to Dean. He was hungry, but not even sure he could finish what he had in front of him.

After a few bites, Dean was much too aware of Sam's gaze to keep eating. He put the chicken back on the plate and reached for a napkin.

"I'm not going to break," he said to Sam, still not really looking at him.

"Yeah, I know. It's just…."

Dean wasn't sure if it was the pause or the tone of Sam's voice that caused him to finally look up. Sam had sounded scared, but Dean saw no fear in his eyes. Instead, he saw what he could only describe as determination. For what, he didn't know.

"Just what?" Dean asked.

Sam glanced away, seemingly to gather his thoughts. When he turned back to Dean, he put his hands on the table.

"It's pretty obvious that something is gong on with you. If you don't want to talk about it, that's okay. I mean, if we're here so Kristine can help with it, that's great. I just….Dean, if it was me instead of you, there's no way you'd sit by the sidelines and watch me suffer. So, don't think you're going to get away with that. I just need to know you're doing something about whatever it is."

Dean looked across the table at his brother. The expression on his face was heartbreaking; his eyes were filled with such affection and he looked like he so desperately wanted Dean to be okay. Dean wondered how many times he'd looked at Sam the same way.

He must have stayed quiet for too long because Sam leaned forward. "Please, Dean."

"Sammy….yeah, I'm doing something. And don't think that I'm shutting you out, it's –"

"I don't care about that," Sam said quickly. "Except that I hope you know by now that you can tell me anything and it won't matter. I'm always going to be your brother and I'll always be right here."

All Dean could do is nod.

Sam leaned back and cleared his throat. A moment later his cell phone started to ring.

"It's in the other room," he said and stood up.

Dean ate a few more bites of chicken and composed himself before joining Sam in the living room. He was just finishing up the call.

"That was Kristine," Sam said. "Someone showed up at the house a few minutes ago looking for help with a job."

"What kind of job?"

Sam shrugged and reached for his coat. "I'm gonna go find out."

"I'm going with you. My coat's upstairs. I'll be right back."

---

Sam watched his brother rush up the stairs. Less than five minutes ago he'd been in the kitchen, barely holding himself together, and now he was ready to go full force into helping someone he didn't even know. It was more than just being able to ignore his own problems for a little while. Sam recognized the hunter that Dean had just turned in to.

He'd already decided, though, Dean wasn't going anywhere near this job. He obviously needed some time off and he needed to work through whatever was going on. Sam wanted to be the one that Dean turned to, but he knew his brother. He had to be near the end of his rope before he'd let Sam help. Eventually Dean would let him in and in the meantime, Sam was glad there was at least someone Dean could turn to until Dean was ready to talk to him.

What worried him though, was why hadn't he seen the signs before Dean was so close to a breaking point. Was he so wrapped up in himself that he didn't notice his brother was in pain? Dean had called him selfish before and maybe he was. But was he really that selfish?

He turned his attention back to Dean as he came downstairs.

Sam knew he wouldn't be able to keep Dean from going to the main house with him, but he was determined to keep him from going on the job. No matter what it turned out to be.

---

They found Kristine sitting in the den of the main house with two men. One of them Dean recognized as the man he'd seen in the kitchen before, but he didn't know the other one. The newcomer looked haggard, like he'd been on the road for a while. He also had a cast on his left arm and a lot of scratches on his face.

Kristine smiled as they walked in.

"Sam and Dean, this is Brian and Greg." She made the introductions and they shook hands, clarifying who was who.

Brian was the newcomer and when the others sat down, he remained standing. A moment later was pacing. Sam and Dean exchanged a look, then turned toward Kristine.

"Brian has been here a couple of times before," Kristine explained. "I've known him for a while. He came across some vampires and –"

"I just wanted a drink and I walked into this bar," he said, his voice shaking as if it had just happened. "It was me and my best friend. We've been hunting together for years. It….The bar was full of 'em. They'd taken it over and….we were the only humans inside. There was a goddamn frenzy and my friend, Lewis, he didn't make it. I barely got out. I managed to start a fire and there was a panic."

"They do that to your arm?" Dean nodded toward him.

"Nah, I did this a few weeks ago." He sunk into an overstuffed chair. "I just got in the car and drove….I didn't even realize I was headed here."

"You don't think they left, do you?" Sam asked.

Brian shook his head. "We've been on their trail for a while. Well, on the trail of one of them anyway. We didn't realize we'd found the nest and we sure as hell didn't know they were in that bar. But that's their town. They won't leave willingly. We found evidence of the nest in a warehouse a few miles outside of town. It's a part of what used to be a factory of some kind, but it's been abandoned for what looked like a long time."

"We're getting together a posse," Greg said.

"We're in."

Sam looked at his brother. Of course he'd volunteer. He turned to Kristine, silently asking for help.

"No one is going anywhere quite yet," Kristine said. "Brian, you need to get cleaned up and you need some food."

"We can't wait too –"

"You said they won't leave the town willingly," Kristine pointed out. "There's some time. And you won't do the people there any good if you're exhausted and get yourself killed."

A moment later, Greg and Brian followed Kristine out of the room.

"I saw that," Dean said. "You and Kristine got some private language now?"

"I don't want you to go."

"What? You're kidding me, right?"

Sam had expected his brother's anger and he knew how to handle it. Sam looked at him, his eyes wide and pleading.

"No, Dean. Please, man, for me. Stay here."

"You expect me to stay here while you go off with people we don't know and hunt vampires? What part of that sounds even the least little bit like me?"

"Kristine knows them. If she thinks they're okay –"

"I'm not letting you go alone, Sam."

"I won't be alone. Listen to me, Dean. You came here for downtime. You came here for….well, whatever you came here for. I'll call Bobby and he can send some more people our way, but I really want you to stay here and let us handle it. Take care of whatever it is you need to take care of and then you and I will go find something evil to kill."

Sam watched his brother's eyes flash with anger.

"Dean –"

The older man stood up and walked across the room.

"Come on, Dean, I—"

"I'm not going to let you go off with people we don't know, Sam. It's not going to happen."

"I'm 23, man."

"I know that."

"I can handle myself."

"I know that, too." Dean's back was to Sam and his voice was quiet.

"If Kristine says these guys are okay, will you please stay here? Just this once? For me."

Dean turned around. "Why?"

Sam heard the fear and mistrust in his brother's voice. He also saw the same things on his face and it tore at Sam's heart.

"Dean…."

---

Dean felt his heart quicken and it was hard to breathe. He remembered the panic attack from the night before and was afraid it was happening again. That fear was making the feeling worse and he wasn't sure how long he could keep it together. He moved toward the window, hoping Sam wouldn't notice that he was trembling.

There had been times when they hunted apart before, but they were with people they'd known their entire lives; Caleb, Bobby, and of course, their dad. Dean had no particular intuition about these hunters and he trusted Kristine's instincts. But he also knew there were hunters who, like Gordon Walker, believed Sam was evil and something to be hunted. What if this was just some elaborate plan to take his brother?

Dean stopped at that; wondering when he had gotten so paranoid. He'd managed to calm his breathing and though is heart was still beating faster than normal, he felt more in control. Paranoid or not, there was no reason to stay behind while there were vampires to hunt. Especially not when his little brother was going to be one of the people hunting them.

---

Sam knew by the look on Dean's face that he'd lost the battle. He wasn't going to be able to keep his brother out of this hunt and he didn't think Kristine would have any better luck. Dean looked angry and determined, but he also looked scared. That was not a good combination and Sam was now even more concerned than he had been.

Kristine came back into the room a moment later.

"Everything okay in here?"

"Yeah," Dean said with a shaking voice.

Sam made eye contact with her, hoping she'd understand. He stood up. "I'm going to the kitchen."

"We're gonna need to check the weapons, Sam."

"Yeah," he said. "I'll get the bag out of the trunk."

Sam looked at Kristine again, then walked out of the room.

---

"Are you sure you're up to this?" Kristine asked.

"It's a hunt. It's what I do."

"That isn't what I asked."

"You and Sam got some secret code now or something?" Dean asked, turning back to the window. "Or are you just conspiring against me?"

"Conspiring? Dean, be serious. I could tell he's worried. And frankly, seeing how you've been acting since you've been here I am, too."

"I'm fine." Dean said coldly.

"We both know that isn't true. Come on, Dean, sit this one out."

"I'm not letting Sam go out there alone."

"I know these guys, Dean. They're good. Sam won't be alone."

"Why did you even call Sam looking for help?" Dean asked, turning around. "You didn't really think I'd just sit by and let him go alone, did you? Without me?"

"Dean…." Kristine looked at him. "I guess I wasn't thinking. I take care of the hunters who come here and Brian asked for help. But, Dean –"

"No _buts_," he said. "Sam doesn't go off on hunts without me. Period. End of story."

oooOOOooo

Not long after midnight, the hunters were ready to go. Kristine had insisted that Brian get some rest and once he'd settled down, he'd fallen asleep quickly. Sam had called Bobby who agreed to send some others to meet them. Sam still wasn't happy about Dean going along and had even considered backing out himself in the hope that Dean would do the same, but he couldn't to that. And, he supposed, that was the same feeling Dean had. No matter what was going on, Dean took his job seriously and he would be able to put aside everything until it was done.

But that was the problem, wasn't it? Dean always put things aside. He buried them so he could get through the day. It was always one more hunt, one more evil thing to kill. Dean put Sam's needs before his own; he put the innocent people they helped in front of him….Dean was never his own first priority.

On the drive, Sam tried to get Dean to talk. About anything. Movies, music, random women….but he stayed quiet. He answered Sam's questions with as few words as possible and didn't start any conversations on his own. Finally, Sam gave up and they continued on in silence.

Greg and Brian were in Greg's car and the Winchester brothers met up with them at a diner just south of the small Missouri town where they were headed. The four hunters Bobby had called in met them there half an hour later. Over strong coffee at a large table in the back of the diner, the hunters devised a plan. At first they considered just setting the warehouse on fire, but when Brian told them it was made of brick, they decided to just rush it and kill all the vampires as they could.

"We should get some dead man's blood, just in case," Sam pointed out.

Until fairly recently, most hunters had thought vampires to be extinct, but information about them was spreading quickly throughout the community. Once Sam explained that dead man's blood was a fast-acting poison that would, hopefully, give the hunters an advantage, there was agreement around the table.

With about five hours of daylight left, they split up to each take care of their assigned tasks. They planned to meet on the road near the abandoned factory in an hour and then head to the warehouse. Despite popular belief, vampires could survive the sunlight, but they tended to sleep during the day when they were most vulnerable. It was best to hit them before dusk.

Sam and Dean's job was to find out what they could about the vampires and the warehouse. Brian and his friend had gotten only limited information before the attack at the bar.

Dean parked the Impala well away from the factory and they continued on foot. Following Brian's directions, they easily found the right building and quickly discovered only a few windows which were set high on the walls.

"May as well not even be there," Dean grumbled.

"It wouldn't make sense for vampires to sleep in a place with a lot of sunlight streaming through it."

Dean cast him a dirty look, but he couldn't argue with his brother's logic.

"I'll go in."

"What?" Sam was incredulous. "Are you high?"

Dean seemed to consider the question, but before he could say anything, Sam started walking toward the warehouse.

"What are you doing?" Dean demanded when he caught up to him.

"I saw a stack of pallets in the back. Maybe we can climb up on them and see in."

"Good thinking, college boy."

Sam glanced at Dean. After they'd reunited that was a nickname Dean had used often, but Sam hadn't heard it in quite a while.

It took some maneuvering, but they managed to use the pallets to look into one of the windows. Neither could see very much, but it was clear there were at least four vampires sleeping on bedrolls on the floor.

"There are probably more," Sam whispered.

Dean only nodded and a few minutes they went back to the car. Sam could see that his brother was in full hunter mode, but he was still concerned about how quiet he'd been on the drive. He still wondered what had triggered his brother's pain and what keeping it at bay to handle this hunt was going to cost him.

"Seems like a simple job," Sam said as they sat on the hood of the car. "In and out, then back to Kristine's."

"Yeah, naybe."

"What?" Sam looked at him. "What do you mean, _maybe_?"

"Maybe we should just find another job when we're done here."

Sam knew that his brother often used hunting as a way to hide from his feelings and from the rest of the world.

"Yeah. I don't think so, Dean. We're going back to Kristine's."

Sam saw his brother's jaw set as he stared forward without responding. He had no intention of trying to get into a serious conversation now. The other hunters were expected soon and the last thing Dean would want was to be in the middle of some serious chat when they arrived.

"It's a long drive back, though," Sam continued. "Maybe we should get out of town an hour or two and find a motel."

Dean still said nothing.

Sam watched him out of the corner of his eye and decided just to let things lie where they were for now. A few minutes later the other hunters started to arrive.

---

Dean felt like he was barely holding it together. There was always an adrenaline rush before a battle, but this somehow felt different. He wasn't too concerned about the vampires because he and the others would have the advantage of surprise. They also had the dead man's blood and a lot of sharp knives. He couldn't really explain what the problem was. Or maybe he just didn't want to think about it.

He'd been on edge ever since seeing those kids the other day. The dreams bothered him and he remembered things he'd done all too clearly. But what did any of that matter now? He and Sam were adults and their dad was dead – he would never find out what Dean had done.

But he was determined that Sam could never find out about the things he still did; the way he sometimes unwound after a particularly stressful hunt. Dean wanted to keep all of it away from his brother.

---

Once everyone had assembled, Sam told them what he and Dean had seen inside. Brian went through what he knew again and the knives were all dipped in dead man's blood with an additional supply handed out to everyone. Containers of holy water were also passed out and another run through of the plan before they headed toward the building.

Once it was within sight, Dean felt his pulse quicken, but not in they way it normally did before engaging in a fight. He ignored it at first, but a sudden feeling that something was going to happen to his brother nearly brought on another panic attack.

"Sam," he hissed as he stopped walking. "Sammy!"

Only a few steps ahead, Sam heard him and turned around.

"Look, uh," Dean glanced around nervously. "You be careful in there. Do you hear me?"

He saw the look of confusion on Sam's face. "Of course I will. You okay?"

The others had gone on ahead and were nearly at the entrance. Sam glanced toward them, then turned back to Dean.

"Yeah," Dean lied. He could feel his heart rate quicken and he was struggling to breathe. He couldn't allow this to happen. He had to get control of himself so he could go into that warehouse. He wouldn't allow Sam to go in there without him and he couldn't be a danger to his brother or the other hunters.

"Dean," Sam reached out for him. "You don't look okay."

Dean shook his head. "Come on; let's go. Just be careful."

---

Sam wanted to keep Dean from going into the warehouse, but he knew he couldn't. He'd seen Dean nervous before a fight before, but never quite like this. He just hoped that his brother could control whatever he was feeling long enough to get the job done. Maybe if had just been the two of them he would have been able to talk him into coming back another time, or at least help him through whatever this was.

Dean pulled away from him and walked toward the warehouse, his stride long and purposeful. Sam followed close behind, determined to get them both out of this in one piece.

---

The hunters went in quietly and moved to separate areas of the warehouse. It was one large room with enough light coming in from the windows that they could see clearly. Luckily the place had been entirely cleaned out and they could see that there were over a dozen vampires sleeping on the floor. Some of them seemed to be in couples, sleeping together. There were only eight hunters and they had to strike fast and hard to avoid getting hurt or worse.

Despite the nearly even number of opponents and the element of surprise, vampires are still faster and stronger than humans. Eight vampires were killed immediately, but the noise alerted the others and a battle quickly ensued.

Dean had just decapitated a female vampire after narrowly avoiding being bitten and was paralyzed with horror when he saw that another had Sam up against a wall. Sam was struggling, but the vampire was close to overpowering him. Dean couldn't make himself move for what seemed like an eternity and no one else had noticed Sam's peril. Finally, Dean managed to free himself from his paralysis and he started to run forward; sure he would make it to Sam just a moment too late.

Greg heard the commotion behind him after finishing off the vampire he'd been battling and splashed holy water on the one holding Sam. The monster cried out in pain and turned his attention to his attacker. Dean got to his brother and dropped to the floor by his side as he slid down the wall. Dean held Sam's face in both hands, examining his injuries. There were bleeding scratches and his neck was already showing signs of bruising. From the corner of his eye, Dean saw the vampire's head roll past them.

---

Sam saw the anxious look in Dean's eyes and felt his hands shaking as they touched his face.

"I'm okay, Dean. I'm okay," Sam said, seeing that some of the others had already reached the door while Greg and Brian were splashing gasoline throughout the room. "We have to get out of here."

Dean seemed to be frozen in place, his hands still on Sam's face. Sam put his hands on Dean's and pulled them away. "Come on, man, we have to go."

"You guys okay?" Greg called from across the room.

Sam glanced at him. "Yeah. We'll be right there. Go ahead."

"Sammy?"

Sam turned back to his brother. "I'm here, Dean. And I'm okay. We have to get out here now, though, all right?"

"The vampires; they –"

"They're dead, Dean. We got them all," Sam said and managed to get to his knees. "You ready?"

Dean nodded, but Sam wasn't sure he'd really heard him. He stood up and pulled Dean to his feet. Keeping an arm around his shoulders, Sam led his brother to the door. The others were waiting for them, having already assessed their own injuries. One of the hunters Bobby had sent went back into the building as planned, to toss a match into the gasoline.

The group went back to where they'd left their vehicles and satisfied everyone's injuries were superficial, they said their goodbyes and went their separate ways. Hunters knew it was always best to put as much distance between them and a kill as possible.

"How about I drive?" Sam suggested once they reached the Impala.

Without a word, Dean reached into his pocket for the keys and held them out. That action scared Sam more than the glassy look in his eyes or his silence. They got into the car and Sam headed in the general direction of North Carolina. Sam was surprised when he realized that Dean had fallen asleep and two hours later he pulled into a motel parking lot. He cleaned his face as best as he could before going inside to rent a room.

Dean woke up when Sam got back into the car and started the engine.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"Saint James, Missouri. I got us a room. Oh, and I called Kristine and Bobby to let them know we were okay."

Once inside the room, Dean sat on the edge of the bed. "You're sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine. How about you?"

Dean ran a hand over his face. "I'm okay."

Sam sat on the other bed, facing his brother.

"Are you sure about that?"

Dean didn't respond and turned away.

"I'm gonna take a quick shower," Sam said, sighing to himself. He hoped giving Dean a few minutes alone would help him.

---

Dean heard the water in the shower start; he slipped out of his jacket and lay back on the bed. He was thankful the battle with the vampires had been successful for them, but he knew that his own performance could have been better. If it had just been the two of them, Sam likely would have died at the hands of the vampire that had pinned him to the wall. He was grateful that Greg had been there, but embarrassed that he'd had to take up the slack.

Somehow, he had to get control of the dreams and the memories that were causing them. But he had to do it without hurting Sam. Dean knew his brother already felt guilty about their mother's death, even though he'd only been six months old at the time. He also insisted he was responsible for Jessica's death because he'd had dreams about it for weeks, but did nothing to prevent it. No matter what Dean said, he couldn't make Sam understand that the demon had done those things and neither of them were Sam's fault.

He was lost in thought when Sam came out of the bathroom, but his brother's movement caught his attention. The scratches on his face looked much less painful now.

"Are you hungry?" Dean asked. "How about we get a pizza?"

"Yeah, sounds good."

Dean opened the phone book while Sam pulled a clean t-shirt over his head. After he called in the order, Dean took his own turn in the shower, but took a much longer time than Sam had. No matter how much soap he used, he didn't feel clean. When he finally rejoined Sam, the pizza box was sitting on one of the beds and Sam was at the table next to the window, cleaning their machetes.

A few minutes later they were stretched out on their beds, backs against the headboards and eating pizza while watching the evening news. Dean felt somewhat more comfortable, but only because of the familiar routine. That, and the lamp on the table between the beds blocked their view of the other one.

Buoyed by the comfort, Dean decided he didn't need to talk to Sam about how he'd been feeling before. He knew his brother must be curious, but since Dean was acting more normally, he hoped Sam would let it drop.

Having not gotten much sleep the day before, both brothers were tired and even though it was barely 9:00, they were both asleep soon after the last of the pizza was gone. Things had begun to feel more normal for Dean and he hoped that would continue the next day.

---

Sam's eyes opened the moment that the cry died on his brother's lips. He quickly made sure that the room was free of danger, then tossed the covers aside. Dean was sitting up in his bed and when Sam moved to his side, he could see the sweat on Dean's brow. Even though the lamp between the beds was turned off, the parking lot lights provided enough illumination for Sam to see his brother's skin was ashen.

Sam had read somewhere that everyone dreamed several times a night, but he couldn't remember Dean ever really talking about dreams. Sam was sure he'd never heard him cry out in his sleep before.

"Sorry," Dean said, clearly embarrassed at having awakened his brother.

"You all right?"

"I'm gonna hit the bathroom."

Sam watched as Dean made his way across the room. He hadn't been fooled when they went to bed. Sam knew that something was still bothering Dean, but he had looked so much more relaxed that he hadn't wanted to broach the subject.

Sam ran his hands over his hair and jumped when he heard glass breaking in the bathroom.

"Dean?" he called.

Hearing a muffled thump, Sam rushed to the closed door and knocked. "Hey, Dean? You okay?"

There was no response.

"I'm coming in," he said with his hand on the doorknob. "Speak now or –"

Hearing more thumping, Sam decided not to wait. Turning the knob, he was thankful to find that Dean hadn't locked the door; not that that would have been a problem. Sam pushed it open gently, not sure what he'd find on the other side. He saw that glass from the mirror littered the sink and the counter around it and Dean was sitting on the floor, knocking his head against the wall.

"Dean," Sam kept his voice low as he walked into the bathroom. He suspected there was glass on the floor as well and he made his way carefully until he was sitting across from his brother. He leaned forward and reached out with a long arm to put a hand on Dean's neck. He stopped hitting the wall, resting his head back against it instead, but kept his eyes closed. "You have got to talk to me, man. You're really starting to scare me."

Sam wasn't sure if it was his tone or his words, but Dean's eyes flew open and he looked at Sam. There was some strange mixture of love and ferocity to his features.

"Don't be scared, Sammy. Don't ever be scared when I'm around."

"Then talk to me, Dean."

"I….I can't."

"Why?" Sam whispered.

"I just can't, Sammy."

"You want to call Kristine?" Sam asked, almost afraid that Dean would say yes. He did everything he could to encourage their relationship, but Sam didn't want to be replaced. He knew that was a silly way to feel; his brother loved him. But still….

"I don't want to call Kristine," Dean said, still looking at Sam. "I trust you with my life, man, but I just can't talk to you about this yet."

"Yet," Sam repeated. "So you'll want to talk to me about it sometime?"

"Sam…."

"It's got to be pretty big because you've been dreaming and….I've never heard you yell out in your sleep before, Dean."

"What did I say?"

"Nothing, really. Just _no_."

Dean nodded, relief flooding his face.

Sam remembered the broken mirror and reached out for his brother's hands. Dean didn't resist as he inspected them for cuts. He could see enough to know that Dean's knuckles were probably not injured too badly.

"How about we at least go back to the other room?" he suggested.

Dean nodded and stood up.

"I'll be right out," Sam told him.

Once Dean was out of the bathroom, Sam turned on the light and cleaned up all of the glass he could find. When he went into the bedroom with a wet wash cloth and a towel, he found Dean sitting at the small table, his palms flat on top of it. Leaving the bathroom light on, Sam stood next to him and looked at his hands more closely. The knuckles on Dean's right hand were bleeding slightly and Sam laid the wet wash cloth on top of it. After a moment of hesitation, Dean wiped the blood away and dried his hands while Sam searched in the first aid kit for an antibiotic cream.

"It's not that bad," Dean insisted while Sam sat across from him and put the cream on the cuts. He insisted on wrapping Dean's hand loosely with gauze as well.

"Let's keep it that way," Sam said.

When Sam was done, Dean pulled his hand closer to his body, but flashed his brother an appreciative look. They sat in strangely comfortable silence for several minutes.

"Sam…."

The younger man waited.

"The other day when you were trying to find the body of that ghost so we could burn the bones and I went to the convenience store for some food….I saw a couple of kids there. A boy maybe 11 or 12 and a little girl who was probably his sister. They both looked like they'd seen better days, ya know? I gave the boy some money."

"Okay," Sam said, confused.

"It reminded me of us. You know, when we were kids and Dad left us to go off on a hunt?"

"He left us with Pastor Jim and Bobby a lot."

"Yeah, but not always."

"I remember."

"I don't know what their story was. I asked the boy if they'd run away from home and he said no. He said that they lived with their mom. I didn't ask for details; story probably wouldn't have been true anyway," Dean looked away. "Mine never was."

"What do you mean?"

"You know," Dean shrugged. Sam thought he was trying to look more nonchalant than he really felt. "Sometimes the money ran out before Dad got home and I had to hustle for more."

"Like that boy?"

Dean nodded, still turned away.

"Did that happen a lot? The money running out?"

Dean shook his head. "Dad was good about leaving more than we needed most of the time. I don't even know where he got from sometimes. I know he worked odd jobs when we were in a town long enough. And he's the one who taught me to play pool."

Sam smiled. "I know."

"Most of the time if a job ran longer than he thought it would, Dad got in touch with Pastor Jim or Bobby; sometimes Caleb, to come and get us. He did his best, Sammy."

Sam looked at his brother, confused. "I know he did."

He hadn't always felt like that, but things were always so much clearer in hindsight.

"Sometimes, though, his best wasn't good enough. He'd be gone too long or there wouldn't be enough money. Sometimes things happened, ya know?"

"Yeah." Truth was, Sam didn't know. There had always been food and there had always been money; so far as he knew anyway. He may have thought about it once or twice over the years, but Sam had always figured they were just very lucky. Now he wasn't so sure. "So what happened when the money ran out? You'd hustle people outside of stores?"

Dean nodded.

"Is that when you started to feel this way? After you saw those kids?"

"I guess."

"And you've been dreaming about –"

"Mostly stuff that doesn't make sense."

Sam didn't think his brother was telling him the truth about the dreams, but he wasn't going to push. If Dean was ready to talk, Sam wasn't going to take any chances of scaring him off. He waited quietly.

"I don't want you to feel bad about any of this, Sammy. You were so young and –"

"You know, Dean, sometimes I think you forget that you're only four years older than me."

He saw Dean smile briefly. "Yeah, you're right. I've always felt older than that."

"That's because you had to be. When Dad left us alone, you had to take care of both of us. Even if we were with Pastor Jim or someone else, you always looked out for me."

"That's my job," Dean said, a sad, crooked smile on his face.

"What are the dreams about, Dean?"

"I told you; things that don't make sense. I don't even really remember them clearly and I don't know why I called out before."

Sam waited again.

"Sometimes a person does things because he has to. He has to do them to survive."

"What kinds of things did you have to do?" Sam asked quietly as a knot formed in his stomach.

"Just things," Dean whispered. "The details aren't important. I just….I didn't always like what I had to do. But….but sometimes I did."

"Sometimes you did, what?" Sam asked, confused.

"Sometimes I liked it," Dean stood up and walked across the room. He stood at the window and stared out, looking almost like he was seeing into the past.

"Dean, I don't understand."

Dean moved to the edge of his bed. "I don't, either. Not really."

Sam was frustrated, but more, he was afraid. Afraid of what his brother, only four years older than himself, had been forced to do to take care of them when their father was gone. It's not like a 10 year old boy could have gotten a job, but Sam didn't remember not having food or supplies for school. He had always known that money was tight, but he couldn't think of a time when they had gone without the basic necessities.

But he did remember periods of time when Dean would leave him alone with strict instructions to keep the door locked and not to open it for anyone but him. Dean told him not to answer the phone unless it was Dad calling with his signal. But if their dad did call, Sam wasn't supposed to tell him that Dean had gone out.

Sam remembered some nights he'd wake up to find Dean gone. They had their own signal; Dean would put his favorite action figure in bed next to Sam and that meant he'd be back soon. Sam always wondered where Dean would go, but he had never asked him.

He looked across the room at his brother. Dean was on the edge of the bed, looking more than tired. He seemed worn out; defeated. Sam walked toward him and sat on his own bed.

"Dean, if you're scared to tell me what you did because you think it will affect our relationship, it won't."

Dean shook his head. "You can't say that, Sammy."

He leaned forward. "Yeah, I can. Dean, you're my brother. There's nothing you can tell me that will change that."

"You may want it to, though."

"Dean, come on, man. Whatever you did was to take care of us; to take care of me. How can that change how I feel about you?"

Sam watched as Dean seemed to struggle with his feelings. He hated that his brother was going through something that was so obviously painful for him and trying to do it alone. Sam knew if the tables were turned, Dean would be there for him.

Despite his aversion to anything emotional, Dean was always Sam's support when he was in trouble. After Jessica died, Dean would sit for hours with him, listening to him talk about her and what some of their plans had been. Sam would do anything for his brother; he just wished Dean would let him.

"Look, dude, you don't have to tell me what's going on," Sam said, leaning forward to be closer to Dean. "But I can promise you that nothing you tell me will change our relationship. We've been through too much together; we've meant too much to each other. And honestly, Dean, I thought you trusted me more than that."

Dean looked at him sharply, clearly having not considered that.

Sam crawled under the blankets on his bed. "See you in the morning."

---

Dean spent a long time thinking about what Sam had said and wasn't able to get back to sleep. He lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling and listening to Sam's breathing. He could tell that his brother wasn't asleep.

He knew how important trust was to Sam and it hadn't occurred to him that his brother would think that his not sharing would be from a lack of trust. When Dean didn't immediately refute that, it made him wonder if that wasn't at least a part of the reason he didn't feel comfortable telling Sam what was really going on in his head.

Of course that wasn't it, Dean decided. There was no one he trusted more than Sam. Even Kristine was a very distant second. Trust wasn't even a part of the equation. Or was it? Dean looked toward the window at the headlights of a car coming into the parking lot reflected off the mirrored closet doors. Glancing at the clock on the table between the beds he saw it was almost two in the morning.

"Sam?"

At first he didn't think his brother was going to answer, but then Dean heard him shift under the blanket. "Yeah?"

"The dreams….The nightmares are about things that happened when we were kids. Just bits and pieces, like I said before, but what I see is pretty vivid."

"Things you did to take care of us?"

Even though Dean couldn't see him in the mostly dark room, he could tell that Sam was treading carefully.

"Yeah."

"How often did the money run out?"

"I told you before; not that often. But things happened and we weren't always close enough to Pastor Jim or someone else for them to help. Sometimes I'd tell Dad that the money had run out, but I never told him what I really did to get more."

"You lied to Dad?" Sam asked, shock apparent in his voice.

"More like I didn't tell him everything," Dean said. He added quietly, "I couldn't."

"You can tell me," Sam said, his voice quiet. "You can tell me anything, Dean. There's nothing that will change us being brothers."

"I know that, Sammy."

"Do you? Because you said before –"

"I was wrong. I was being an ass and I'm sorry."

Sam was quiet for a moment. "Thank you. You know, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. It's just….You've been having nightmares and the panic attacks. It just seems like –"

"Kristine thinks that's a sign that I do want to tell you. Or, at least that I need to."

"I think she's right, Dean."

Dean sat up and tossed the covers aside. Without a word he went to the bathroom and when he came out, Sam was sitting at the table with two bottles of beer that Dean knew must have come from the cooler in the Impala's trunk. He couldn't remember the last time they'd gotten beer – or ice – so he figured it was probably warm. Sam hadn't turned any lights on, but there was enough coming in through the partially open curtain that the room wasn't totally black.

Dean sat down across from him and took one of the bottles in his hands. It felt warm, as he suspected, but he didn't really care. He twisted off the top and took a long swallow.

"I'm sorry I've been weird about this," he said quietly.

"You don't have to apologize."

Dean took another drink from the bottle. "I never wanted you to know about this stuff, Sam. Not because I couldn't trust you, but…."

"It's okay, Dean. Just tell me. Give yourself some peace."

Dean laughed. "That's what Kristine said. Are you sure you two haven't talked?"

"Not about this. One of my favorite subjects in school was psychology, so Kristine and I talk about it. And I've read a lot of books that she's recommended to me." Sam shrugged. "I just find it interesting."

"I don't want you to feel bad or guilty about any of this. I know how you are."

Sam looked down at the table, then turned his attention back to his brother. "Just talk to me, man."

Dean took a deep breath, holding the beer bottle in both hands. Even though the room was mostly dark, Dean found he couldn't look in Sam's direction.

"It started accidentally," Dean finally began. "Dad was gone and we needed money for….we just needed money. I was going to steal what we needed, but I was afraid I'd get caught and the police would find out we were alone. On my way to the store I went through a park; it was a shortcut. Nice place to play during the day, but people played different games at night."

"How old were you?"

"Around eleven."

"What did you do?" Sam asked quietly.

"A guy offered me 20 bucks to jack him off."

Sam didn't say anything and after a moment, Dean looked at him. He couldn't see the details of Sam's expression, but he could tell that his brother's posture hadn't changed.

"You did it?" Sam asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I had to. I didn't know how else to get the money. I called Dad at the number he kept for messages, but a really long time went by and he didn't call back. I was afraid something happened to him. Pastor Jim was out of town and I couldn't find anyone else. I had to do it."

"What did we need money for? Dad didn't leave enough for food or –"

"Sammy, it doesn't matter. We just needed the money, okay?"

"Why?" Sam asked again. His voice was more forceful, but thick with emotion.

Dean didn't want to answer, but he knew if he didn't, Sam would fill in the blanks for himself. "You were really sick and I needed to buy medicine."

Sam sat back in his chair. "Were you scared?"

"Terrified."

"Was that the only time?"

"No," Dean whispered. "At first, I only did it when we ran out of money or needed something Dad hadn't thought about. Then I realized I could do it so Dad wouldn't have to leave so much. He never asked why there was left over when he got back. In those days, he was still so freaked out by everything he saw on a hunt that he didn't think about much when he got home."

Dean was quiet to let what he'd said had time to sink in. He felt a change in Sam, but he didn't think Sam was judging him. He suspected instead that Sam was just trying to put all the pieces together.

"Sometimes I woke up at night and you were gone…."

"I put Batman in your hand while you were sleeping so you'd know I'd be back. Remember I told you that?"

"Yeah. It was our signal. You told me that Batman would protect me while you were out and that I shouldn't be afraid."

Dean nodded, more to himself than to Sam. "And I was never gone more than an hour or two."

"Did….Did any of the men ever hurt you, or...?"

"Sam…." Dean whispered.

"Tell me," Sam said, his voice pleading.

"Once. I should have been faster than him. I should have been stronger. He –"

"You were just a kid, Dean."

"Not then."

"What do you mean?"

"I was 20. I couldn't always find a place to hustle pool or play cards, but I could always find a place where men were willing to pay me."

Sam said nothing.

"He was old," Dean continued a moment later. Now that he'd started the story he felt like he had to finish it; like he _wanted_ to finish it. This was what most of the nightmares had been about, after all. "Well, compared to a 20 year old anyway. He said he wanted a blow job and he led me to this place in the woods. He was fat and slow – it wasn't a very long walk, but he was out of breath when we got there."

"There?"

"He had this whole….I don't know, camp, I guess, set up. There was even a little tent. I should have been able to get away from him, but…."

"But what?" Sam asked after a moment.

Dean saw flashes of what had happened and couldn't make himself speak. Even though his eyes were closed, he could still see the man and the place he'd set up in the woods.

"Dean?"

"He….He offered me something to drink. Shit, I didn't remember that until now. Bottled water. Oh God," Dean said, suddenly feeling sick. "He must have drugged it. That's how he got me down; how he tied me up."

"He tied you up?" Sam asked, his voice shaking.

"I didn't remember _waking up_. I never remembered how he got the upper hand …." Dean stopped talking, lost in his memory. A moment later he heard Sam's voice gently calling his name. He took a draw from the beer bottle and continued. "I woke up. I was tied to a tree and there was a gag in my mouth. I tried to yell, but I couldn't. Aw, shit."

"Dean? Talk to me. Tell me."

"Not tied," he said. "Handcuffed. I couldn't fight him, Sammy. I tried, but I couldn't. And he….he…."

Dean couldn't say it. Everything that had happened was so clear to him now, but he couldn't use the word. After a moment, he looked toward Sam. His brother was now leaning forward, his arms resting on the table, sitting as close to Dean as he could manage without touching him.

"You told me you got into a fight at the bar," Sam whispered.

"You remember?"

He saw Sam nod. "Dad was gone; I had to study for exams and you went out. I wanted to help clean you up, but you wouldn't let me."

Dean remembered that. He'd gotten back to the apartment their dad had rented and Sam was still at the kitchen table studying. He should have been in bed a couple of hours before. Dean hadn't intended to be gone so long, but he hadn't known what was going to happen to him.

Sam had jumped out of the chair when he saw his brother and wanted to make sure he was all right. Dean could still remember shying away from his brother's hands; pretending he hurt worse than he did so that Sam wouldn't try to touch him again. He still remembered feeling sick and just needing to be left alone. It hadn't been easy to get away from Sam, but Dean had managed to do it without scaring him. He'd made up the story about the fight on his way home and when he was sure Sam believed him, he'd escaped into the privacy of the bathroom after telling Sam to go to bed.

He remembered not being able to make the water hot enough to get the man's stink off of him. Dean could still feel the man's hands as he'd forcefully tugged at Dean's pants. He'd cowered in a corner of the shower as the water beat down on him, wanting to scream, but knowing he couldn't.

Dean had used all of the hot water and still hadn't felt clean. When he finally came out of the bathroom, Sam was in bed, but not asleep. Dean still remembered the look of worry on his face and he pushed aside his own pain to make sure that Sammy was all right. That's how he still got through being hurt. He put Sam first; he worried about Sam. If he had something else to concentrate on, he didn't have to think about himself.

He looked at his brother now and even in the dimness of the room, he saw the same look of worry.

"I'm sorry, Dean."

"It's not your fault, Sam. Nothing that happened was your fault."

"I….I can still be sorry about what happened to you."

"I don't want you to be sorry, Sam. I just….I just need you to understand and…."

"And what, Dean?" Sam whispered.

"Be my brother."

"I am your brother, Dean. Nothing will ever change that. Nothing you've done; nothing you'll do. _Nothing _will change that."

Dean desperately needed to believe him. He leaned forward, elbows on the table and his head resting in his hands. He flinched when Sam lightly touched his arm, but he didn't pull away.

_TBC_


	4. Chapter 4

**Tested**

Chapter 4

**Disclaimer**: See chapter 1

**A/N**: This is the last chapter. It doesn't look like I've alienated anyone with this story and I'm really glad about this. Like I said before, I was nervous about posting this, but this story has been on my mind for a long time. I really hope that Dean didn't have to go through anything like this, but it makes total sense to me that he could have.

Until we meet again – and maybe I'll write a story about something paranormal next time – thanks for reading and for all of the wonderful comments.

Happy holidays!

oooOOOooo

You can play by the rules, or bend them to your needs.

But the test isn't over till you reach your dark eternal sleep.

There are no absolutes, no big wheels in the sky...

You don't have to be first, just to get a sundown goodbye.

From the song _Tested_ by Bad Religion

oooOOOooo

Sam knew it wasn't over. Dean had talked about what happened; he was probably even feeling the same emotions that he had that night, but he wasn't through. Talking about it was a huge step, Sam knew. It would be hard for anyone to admit something like Dean just had, but his brother tried to hide his feelings from the world and that made it more difficult for him than for some. Sam understood that and he knew that just talking about it would make Dean feel better, but there was more to be done. He didn't want his brother to hurt any more, but if he let Dean stop now, the relief would only be in the short term.

He watched Dean, his head still resting in his hands. Sam felt him tremble lightly under his touch, but he was afraid if he moved any closer or touched him in any other way, that Dean would not react well. He didn't know what to do next, but he knew that unless he did something, the progress would stop now. Dean's nightmares would likely continue, as well as the panic attacks. As scared as they made Sam in general – it was wrong to see his strong, brave brother so undone – he knew that he couldn't allow Dean to go into a fight with anything supernatural until he had them under control.

Sam squeezed Dean's arm and a moment later Dean looked at him. There were tears in his eyes, but more than that, there was fear. Sam didn't know exactly what was causing it – it could be the memory of what had happened, what Sam's reaction would be, or even the understanding that he wasn't done working his way through his emotions.

Sam wanted to make Dean feel safe enough to continue and that meant he had to make his brother understand that nothing had changed between them. He was completely crazed by what had happened to Dean, but he had been a victim and Sam still loved him.

"I'm not going anywhere," Sam said, his voice soft. "Are you all right?"

Dean rubbed his face and sat up. "Yeah."

"Dean."

"I'm tired. I just want to go back to bed and sleep for a hundred years."

"I don't think it's over, Dean. I'm sorry, but I don't think the nightmares are going to stop until you've pr—" Sam stopped knowing that if he said what he was going to, Dean would only accuse him of using psychobabble and probably make a joke about watching Oprah. He already saw a twinkle in Dean's eyes; not that that was a completely bad thing right now.

"Can it be over for tonight?" Dean asked.

Maybe it was okay to take a break for a while, Sam thought. It was late, they were both tired and he had begun to wonder if pushing Dean might be worse than letting it go for the time being.

Sam nodded. "Let's go back to bed. But I think we should take some time off. The last thing that either of us needs is for a panic attack to happen in the middle of a fight with some badass."

Sam flinched inside when he saw the look on Dean's face. He was clearly hurt and embarrassed that Sam didn't think he could be trusted in a fight.

"Dean, I –"

"It's okay, Sammy. You're right."

Sam didn't hear any anger in Dean's voice and when he looked into his eyes, he saw only understanding.

"I don't want either of us to get hurt because of me."

It didn't take long for them to settle back into their beds, but Sam wouldn't let himself relax until he was sure that Dean had fallen asleep.

---

The next time Dean opened his eyes it was nearly 11:00 in the morning. He had a headache, almost like he had a hangover. He got out of bed and watched Sam as he slept for a few minutes before making his way to the bathroom. He felt a little better after a shower, but he really wanted some coffee and food.

Sam was still asleep when Dean came back into the room. He wanted to let him sleep, but check-out time was noon and they had to leave the room. Dean reluctantly woke his brother and while Sam was in the shower, he made their things were packed and ready to go.

Before getting on the road, they walked next door to a diner. Dean ordered coffee and a large breakfast plate while Sam chose something less elaborate. They sat in silence, each with a section of the newspaper.

Dean was glad that Sam didn't seem to want to talk about his revelation from the night before, but he couldn't help but wonder what his brother's thoughts were. Asking him, though, would open the door for more conversation and that was something Dean wasn't up to yet. He couldn't miss Sam's occasional worried glances his way, but he seemed content to stay quiet. Dean suspected if they'd had more time in the room that Sam would have brought their early-morning conversation and he wondered what the car ride was going to be like.

---

Once their food arrived the men put aside their newspaper sections and ate while engaging in conversations about safe subjects. Sam had noticed that his brother's face was a little pale and he didn't look like he felt very good. He suspected it was from the lack of sleep and his emotional admission the night before. He was glad to see that Dean ate most of the large breakfast he'd ordered and after three cups of coffee, he looked like he was feeling better.

Sam wanted to talk about the previous night, but he didn't think Dean was ready and he definitely wouldn't be interested in talking about it in a public place. He still hated the thought of what his brother had gone through, but none of it changed his feelings for Dean. To think that he had given in to strange men's desires to make sure they were both taken care of….Sam knew that Dean didn't want him to feel guilty about that, but he couldn't help it. He was also angry with their father for putting Dean in that position and then being blind to the pain it must have caused him.

But, like Dean had said, in the beginning their dad had a hard time dealing with the things he was seeing. Each hunt was emotionally draining and it was probably all he could do to survive, let alone have anything left over for his sons. Sam used to resent that, but he'd learned that their dad had only done what he thought he had to. It was clear now that evil was not going to leave them in peace and while it had not been easy to grow up the way they did, it taught them how to survive.

Dean paid the price for that childhood more than Sam had and that was one of the many things Sam felt guilty about. It wasn't Sam's fault and he understood that, but what Dean did had been more for Sam's benefit than for his own. He didn't know how to handle that, but his focus right now had to be on his brother. Maybe he would talk to Kristine about it when they got back to North Carolina.

After they finished eating and had paid the bill, the brothers walked back across the street. Dean unlocked the driver side door of the Impala, but he didn't open it. Instead, he stood staring off into the distance.

"Dean?" Sam called. He followed his brother's gaze, but didn't see anything of interest and he turned back around. "Dean? Are you all right?"

"Yeah, uh….Yeah." Still, he didn't open the door.

"You want me to drive?" he asked.

"No." Dean looked at him. "Are we okay?"

The question took Sam by surprise and he wondered if maybe he should have brought up what they'd talked about the night before so that Dean would know nothing had changed between them.

"Of course we are."

"You're not….you're not freaked out by what I told you?"

Sam could barely hear him because he was speaking so softly. He put his elbows on the car and leaned forward. "Dean, you did what you thought you had to do to take care of me. I wish there'd been some other way because no kid should have to go through what you did. And I hate what that bastard did to you, but I'm not freaked out by you."

Dean looked at his brother with a flood of affection and appreciation evident in his eyes. After a moment he nodded and got into the car.

oooOOOooo

The drive back to Kristine's was uneventful and when Sam tried to bring the conversation around to their childhood, Dean expertly avoided it. Sam didn't try as hard as he might have, but he knew he would have to push it at some point to help Dean fully get past what had happened. He couldn't help but wonder what some of Dean's current day late night activities were, but decided that as long as he was safe, it didn't matter. Dean was still Dean. He was still Sam's big brother and that would never change.

It was early evening when they got to the estate and Kristine welcomed them warmly. Dean had called her while at a gas station and told her about the brothers' conversation early that morning. She knew better than to try to interfere with their relationship, but she wanted to talk to Sam – not only to make sure that he was okay with Dean's admission, but to make sure he knew what the next step should be.

She was fully confident in Sam's instincts to handle his brother, and she knew by their conversations that he had studied enough to possess scholarly knowledge to back up his instincts, but he was very close to the situation and sometimes that could make things dangerous. He couldn't be truly objective and his own pain might cause him to back away from the really important work that needed to be done. Of course, caring about the brothers the way she did put her very close to the situation as well.

Dean resolutely refused to speak any more about the rape and nearly a week later, Sam was more worried about his brother than he had been. He and Kristine had more than one conversation about the hypothetical and probable impact the incident would have had on Dean, but neither one could get Dean to talk.

Kristine was in the library of the main house with a hunter who was on his way out when she heard commotion at the front door.

"What's going on?" she asked, walking into the foyer. Ross was standing with a hunter she knew and they were trying to calm two young boys. They were cowering behind the hunter and she couldn't get a good enough look at them to even judge their age. The boys weren't crying, but she could see enough to know they were more than just a little afraid. She didn't think it had anything to do with being in a strange place.

"We've got us a little situation," Ross said.

"I see that," she looked to the boys. "Hey guys; my name is Kristine. Are you hungry or thirsty? We've got all kinds of stuff in the kitchen."

They looked at her warily.

"Come on, guys," the hunter encouraged them. "I know I'm hungry."

He led them into the kitchen and with Kristine's help, Ross quickly laid out a small buffet. At first the boys refused to eat, though they looked at the food with wide, hungry eyes. It took a few minutes, but Ross managed to win them over, at least temporarily, with chocolate cake and some stupid jokes. Once he was sure the boys were more interested in the cake than in him, the hunter caught Kristine's eye and motioned for her to join him in a corner of the kitchen.

"Whose kids are they?" Kristine asked in a whisper.

The hunter, Tom Harper, watched the boys for a moment before answering. "Their parents were killed by vampires. I found them in their house, hiding in the master bedroom's walk-in closet. It took me a few days to gain their trust….I didn't know where else to bring them."

Kristine shook her head. "Don't worry about that. You did the right thing to bring them here. Are you sure they haven't been turned?"

Tom nodded. "Yeah, but the vampires fed on them."

"Jesus."

"Physically I think they'll be okay, but…."

"I'll spend some time with them; see what I can do. They don't have any other family?"

"None I've been able to get them to talk about."

"If there really isn't anyone, there's a group home in Atlanta for children who have been victims of supernatural activity."

"I've never heard about that place," Tom said.

"You have now," Kristine smiled. "It's well run and the children are taken very good care of. It's only been around for a couple of years and by all accounts is a legitimate home for run aways….if that one doesn't work out there are other places we can try."

"Amazing."

"There are a lot of resources out there," Kristine confirmed with a smile.

"Apparently." Tom looked toward the table.

"When was the last time you ate?" Kristine asked.

"It's not been all that long, but I have to admit the spread over there looks pretty good."

"Help yourself."

---

Kristine spent a few hours with the boys, under Tom's close supervision, and learned their names were Alex and Nicholas Cordell. Alex was the oldest at ten and Nicholas had just turned four a few days before their parents were killed. Alex said he had never met any other family; he didn't know any grandparents, aunts or uncles. He knew some of his parents' friends, but he wouldn't tell her any of their names. Kristine knew a simple background check would find any family they would have to be concerned about as well as any family friends. Even though their circumstances were different than many other orphaned children, Kristine knew it would be best for them to stay with people they knew if possible.

A few hours later, the boys were far from comfortable, but they seemed to at least not be as afraid as they had been when they arrived. Nicholas took his lead from Alex and refused to let his older brother out of his site. Alex was good with him and Kristine couldn't help but see the similarities between them and the Winchester brothers.

Sam and Dean had gone to Asheville for the day; a museum there had an exhibition that Sam was interested in and to his surprise, Dean had wanted to go along. Kristine knew that Dean hadn't shared any more with his brother, but she'd noticed that he hadn't let Sam get too far away from him since they got back from the hunt.

---

Sam and Dean got back from Asheville just after the Cordell boys finished an early dinner. Tom was watching over them while Alex helped Nicholas with a bath and Kristine settled in the den with the Winchesters to tell them about the newcomers.

"God, that's horrible," Sam said when she'd finished. "Have you looked for their family yet?"

Kristine shook her head. "Not yet."

"I could work on it while you and Dean go out to dinner."

"We're going out to dinner?" Kristine asked, looking at Dean. He shrugged.

"Oh come on," Sam said and rolled his eyes. "You two haven't spent a whole evening together since we've been here and frankly, I'm getting a little sick of both of you."

Sam's grin told them he wasn't serious, but the idea of spending some time alone with Dean appealed to Kristine. She knew that Tom could handle anything that might happen with the children overnight, but she kept her cell phone close. She noticed that Dean did the same thing with his phone; seemingly in case Sam called.

Despite their preoccupation, Kristine and Dean managed to spend an enjoyable evening together, but both were anxious to get to the estate house the next morning. Sam hadn't come out of his room yet and Ross told Dean he saw a light on under his door long after midnight when he'd gotten up to use the bathroom. Dean assumed Sam had lost track of time while on the computer and he decided to spend some time working on the Impala while his brother slept.

Tom came into the kitchen before Dean headed out and after introductions were made, Tom told Kristine that the night had been mainly uneventful. Nicholas had woken up from a nightmare, but Alex had quickly been able to calm him and get him back to sleep. Kristine saw the look on Dean's face as Tom spoke and she wondered if he was thinking about similar nights of taking care of Sam.

---

"That's a sweet ride."

Dean was bent over the Impala's engine and he looked in the direction of the voice to see a young boy standing off to his right. He had parked the car just outside of the detached garage where Ross' car and a truck belonging to the estate were parked.

"You know about cars?" Dean asked as he stood up and wiped his hand on a rag he'd had in his back pocket.

The boy shrugged. "A little. My dad sells…he sold vintage cars. I'm Alex."

Dean was surprised when he stepped forward with his right hand extended. Dean shook it. "I'm Dean."

"Do you live here?"

"No, I'm just visiting."

"Me, too. Me and my brother. His name is Nicholas and he's four."

"Where is he now?" Dean asked, glancing around.

"He's still sleeping."

"My brother is here, too," Dean said. "His name is Sam."

"Where is he?"

"Still sleeping; like Nicholas."

Alex shuffled his feet. "Is something wrong with your car?"

"Not really. I just finished an oil change and I'm checking some other things out."

"Can I help? My dad lets….he let me help him sometimes."

"Yeah, but just a second." Dean knew there was a small crate just inside the garage and he brought it out for Alex to stand on. "Here you go."

He stepped up carefully and leaned on the car.

"So, your dad sold old cars, huh?" he said, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Vintage," Alex corrected.

"Vintage," Dean repeated, hiding his smile.

"This a high-performance 327?"

Dean looked at the boy, impressed. "Yeah. I rebuilt her not too long ago; made a modification or two."

Alex nodded approvingly and for the next fifteen minutes talked about the original 1967 Impala specifications. Dean had very little to add.

"Your dad teach you all that?"

Alex nodded again, then looked away.

"My dad taught me about cars, too."

"Is your dad here?"

Dean shook his head. "No. My dad died. I know what happened to your parents. I'm sorry."

"You know about vampires and stuff?" Alex asked, his eyes turned back to the car.

"Yeah. Me and my brother, we kind of go around helping people who have problems with vampires and other stuff. That's what most of the people who come here do."

"I didn't know they were real. I saw movies about them, but I thought they were just stories." He looked at Dean. "What about other things that I thought were just stories? Like ghosts?"

"A lot of things are real, Alex, but you don't have to worry about that. You and Nicholas are safe here."

"We weren't safe in our house."

"It's different here; I promise. We all know about things that most people think are just stories."

"How come you don't let people know that vampires and other things are real?"

Dean looked at the boy, then turned to lean back against the car. "Most people wouldn't believe it until they had to; until they'd seen the things for themselves. So, instead we try to keep people from finding out so they won't be too scared. We want to help people; to protect them."

"I think that's a good idea," Alex said. He turned to lean back against the car, his posture very much like Dean's. "It was really scary,"

Dean stayed quiet, somehow knowing that Alex would continue on his own.

"Me and Nicholas were sleeping. We watched _Cars_ in my room and he fell asleep in my bed. Nicholas had a Lightning McQueen toy, but one of the vampires broke it. Anyway, I woke up cuz my mom was screaming and I got out of bed to see what was going on. But Nicholas woke up and he started crying, so I had to take care of him. He's my little brother and that's what I'm supposed to do."

Dean felt a lump in his throat and ice in the pit of his stomach. He saw flashes of the night he carried a six-month old Sammy out of their house and any number of times that he'd taken care of his little brother when Sam woke up crying. He knew exactly how Alex was feeling.

"I got him to stop crying and we hid in the secret place. There's a little door in the wall of my closet and we hid in there for a while, but the vampires found us." Alex absently touched the bandage on his neck. This girl vampire dragged us out and….I just wanted her to leave Nicholas alone and she said she would if I did what she wanted. She called someone's name and this guy vampire came in. I just had to do what she said, so I had to let that guy…."

Alex touched the bandage again; his face had gone blank and he was staring off into the distance.

"It wasn't your fault," Dean said, struggling to keep his emotions under control. "Nothing that happened was your fault."

"I should have done something –"

"You did, Alex. You did everything you could."

Dean watched as the little boy stepped down off of the crate and paced in front of it for a moment. He had started to shake and Dean was afraid he was going to fall to the ground; he didn't think Alex realized that he'd started to cry. He sat down on the crate and softly called Alex's name. At first he ignored Dean, becoming more agitated. He paced faster and his breath was coming in gasps.

"Alex, listen to me," Dean said, carefully reaching out for him. He turned the boy around to face him and looked into his eyes. "You did everything you could and nothing that happened was your fault."

"You don't know! You don't –"

"Yeah, I do. I have a little brother, too. Sam – Sammy's younger than me and I've always taken care of him."

"But you never let monsters do things to you. You –"

Dean pulled him closer. "Yeah, I did, Alex. Not exactly the same kind of monsters, but I let things happen to me so my little brother would be all right. I was scared, just like you, but we're both okay."

Alex looked at him, uncertain at first, but then he suddenly threw his arms around Dean's neck and held on tight. Dean put his arms around him, rubbing his back like he had done for Sam so many times when they were kids. A few minutes later they heard a little voice calling his name and Alex pulled away. He wiped away the tears on his face and looked toward the direction of the voice.

"I'm coming, Nicholas." He looked at Dean, who smiled at him confidently and nodded.

Alex nodded back and ran toward his little brother. As soon as Alex was out of sight, Dean wrapped his arms around his stomach, feeling sick.

---

Kristine put Nicholas down and let him run toward Alex. She and Sam had seen and heard everything that happened between him and Dean. She saw the concern on Sam's face and patted his arm encouragingly.

"He needs you, Sam."

"I don't know what to do."

She smiled. "Yes, you do. You know him better than anyone else. Just follow your instincts."

"Maybe you –"

"He needs his brother."

Sam looked back to his brother and nodded. As he stepped forward, Kristine moved toward the boys and with a hand on each of their shoulders, led them back to the house.

---

Sam didn't want to startle his brother, so when he got closer to the car, he quietly called out his name. Dean wiped his face and stood up, clearly losing the struggle to remain calm.

"I'm coming, Sammy."

Before he could move, Sam came from around the car. "I heard what you said to Alex."

"Oh." Dean looked away, clearly embarrassed.

"It's not your fault either, you know."

"I thought I was done."

"Done?"

"I thought after I told you about what happened that it wouldn't hurt like this any more."

Sam was taken aback by Dean's honesty.

"Dean, what happened to you was horrible and you've never really dealt with it. I know you think that's all psychobabble and crap, but it isn't. When bad things happen, people have to talk about them. Stuffing it all away gives it power to come out whenever it wants to. You know that. That's why you tried to get me to talk after Jessica died."

"You were having nightmares," Dean whispered.

"So are you, Dean. And panic attacks. What that bastard did to you still has power over you, but it's time to take that power back."

Sam watched as Dean began to pace, much like Alex had. A moment later, he dropped down onto the crate, clearly struggling to breathe. Sam crouched next to him, close enough to touch him, but not making any move to do it.

"Deep breaths, Dean. Just like you told me. Remember?"

Dean looked at him, fear and confusion in his eyes.

"When I was little?" Sam continued. "I'd wake up from a dream and there you were, rubbing my back and telling me to take deep breaths. You'd say _come on, Sammy, it's all right. You just have to breathe. Take deep breaths, Sammy."_

Sam waited a moment before continuing, keeping his voice even. "And even a few times after I'd dream about Jessica. You remember that? There were some bad ones and you sat on the edge of my bed, rubbing my back just like when we were kids."

"I never should have let that guy do those things to me."

"You didn't let him, Dean. Just like those vampires and Alex. What happened to you was no more your fault than the vampires feeding on Alex was his."

"That's not true. I went to the park to get men to pay me. Alex didn't invite those vampires in."

"You didn't invite that guy, either. You were doing what you had to do to take care of me," Sam said, playing to his brother's protectiveness. "You didn't ask him to drug you or to handcuff you to a tree. If you'd wanted him to do what he did, he wouldn't have had to trick you."

"Sammy…."

"Listen to me, Dean. Listen to me and _hear_ me. It's not your fault. You were attacked; you were the victim."

Dean leaned forward and Sam gently laid a hand on his back. His brother stiffened at first, but then relaxed under his touch.

"I didn't want it to happen."

"I know you didn't."

"He forced me."

"Yeah," Sam agreed, still rubbing Dean's back gently. He felt Dean start to shake and he leaned closer to him. "Come on, Dean, it's all right. You just have to breathe. Take deep breaths, Dean."

A few minutes later Dean was still. "No monster, no demon we've got up against scared me as much as that guy."

"I don't doubt it."

"He had no right to do that to me," Dean said, his voice becoming angry. "I agreed to one thing and he had no right to make me do more."

"No, he didn't, Dean."

"I felt really alone after it happened," Dean said quietly after a few minutes. "I couldn't tell you what happened; I couldn't tell Dad. And I was scared for a long time."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that."

Dean nodded, but said nothing.

"Thank you," Sam whispered a few minutes later.

Dean looked at him, questioningly. "What for?"

"Being my big brother and taking care of me. I just wish it hadn't cost you so much."

After a moment of hesitation, Dean straightened up and put a hand on the back of his brother's neck. "You're worth any cost, Sammy."

"You know that's how I feel about you, too, right?" Sam whispered. "And I'm right here; I'm not going anywhere. I'll be here to listen when you need to talk – about anything. It's going to be a while before you work through this, but I'll be right here."

Dean squeezed Sam's neck. "You're not bad for a pain in the ass little brother."

Sam smiled at him. "Thanks."

---

After several minutes in a comfortable silence, Dean stood up and looked back at his brother. Sam had sat down on the ground, next to the crate, just close enough to Dean to offer silent support. Dean stood up.

"You okay?" Sam asked, looking up at him.

Dean shook his head. "No."

"Dean –"

He held up a hand. "Don't worry; I will be."

"What can I do?"

"You're already doing it," he took a deep breath. "I think I'm gonna take a walk. I'll be back in a little while, okay?"

Dean didn't wait for an answer before heading off toward the dirt road that connected the cottage to the main house. He felt Sam's eyes on him as he walked away and he knew his brother was worried, but he needed some time to himself.

The dirt road meandered through a lightly wooded area of the estate and about halfway between the two houses it passed close to a pond that had a large, flat rock next to it. Dean always seemed to gravitate toward water when he wanted to think and the rock was a perfect place to sit. The irony of being in the woods wasn't lost on him, but he refused to dwell on it.

Dean crouched next to the pond for a few minutes, running his fingers through the cold water. It wasn't a natural body of water; Kristine told him her grandfather had it built when he became the legal owner of the estate and that it hadn't always been quite as secluded as it was now. When her father was growing up, there had been a large gazebo nearby where parties were held in the summer, but it was destroyed when a tree had fallen on it during a storm in Kristine's childhood. Her parents had a new one built closer to the main house.

Dean stuck both hands into the water and then rubbed his face before moving to the rock. He thought about the time he'd found Kristine sitting in the same spot when she had been in the midst of a bout with extreme depression. She had been drinking heavily, cutting herself and engaging in all sorts of risky activities at a time when he just happened into town for a visit. It had been a difficult revelation for him – she had told him about being in and out of hospitals after the death of her sister and nephew, but until he'd seen the behavior, they had just been stories.

He took a deep breath and looked around. He didn't feel well, but he knew there wasn't a physical cause. He didn't want to remember what had happened in the woods that night, but he knew that he had to. Sam was right; it was time he finally deal with it. The thing was, though, he didn't know how. The only things he really knew how to deal with were the evil sonsofbitches that he and Sam went around the country killing. When it came to his emotions, Dean always found it much easier just to stuff things away.

He couldn't talk about it any more. Not right now. He knew that Sam would be there to listen when he was ready again, but for right now he just needed to be alone. There were so many things that hurt too badly to think about very often. Even though he had only been four when his mother died, Dean remembered that night. He could hear her screaming for his dad and then his father's scream when he saw what should have been impossible….he remembered carrying his baby brother out of the house and stopping to look up at the nursery window as it exploded from the heat of the fire. He could feel the warmth on his face even now and remembered feeling safe in his dad's strong arms as he ran out of the house and whisked both boys away.

It hurt to think about that night because that's when his entire world collapsed. His dad was never the same after that. Once in a while the fun-loving gentle man would come out, but he had all but been replaced by the hard and determined hunter.

It also hurt to think about some of the things he'd done over the years; the hard edge he'd had to develop to keep his sanity in an insane world. Dean knew his dad's last option was to leave him and Sam alone in a motel room or shabby apartment when he'd go off on a hunt, but it happened all too often. Dean had been terrified every time that his dad would never come back, or someone would find out that he and Sam were alone.

One of the worst things about thinking about what he'd done with those men was realizing that he hadn't done it just for the money. That had been the primary motivator at first, but as he got older and found there were other ways to make money, he still often preferred to solicit men. He liked the way it made him feel and he didn't always find the same pleasure with women.

He'd stuff away too much pain over the years to ever fully deal with all of it, but he knew that unless he started to work his way through things, the panic attacks would continue and he'd eventually put not only himself in jeopardy, but Sam as well. That was not something he was willing to do. Their jobs were dangerous enough and the thought of him being the cause of Sam getting hurt, or worse, was too horrible to contemplate.

Dean found himself staring at a large tree on the other side of the pond. It was a pine tree and although he didn't know what kind of tree he'd been handcuffed to outside of that park, he knew it wasn't a pine. Yet something….Dean pulled his jacket tighter around himself as a cool breeze blew by. His thoughts drifted to Alex and Nicholas and what kind of life they had ahead of them. If no family was found, he trusted Kristine's opinion that the group home was the right place for them, but he knew firsthand how hard it was to grow up knowing that the monster in the closet is real.

He knew that his situation growing up had been extreme. Dean knew that Alex and Nicholas would have adults looking out for them better than his own father had been able to do for him, but Dean couldn't help but wonder what situations the boy might find himself in. Still looking at the tree and his thoughts on Alex, suddenly Dean could see the man who had attacked him less than a decade before. It was as if it had just happened; his face was as fresh in his memory now as it had been the day after. They had lived in the same town for another few months, but Dean hadn't been able to bring himself to go back to that park. He didn't approach men after that for a very long time; in fact, it wasn't until an accidental encounter only a couple of years before that it started happening again.

Dean didn't realize he was screaming until he felt his throat burn from the effort. He looked around and saw that he had fallen to the ground and was curled into a small ball. His face was wet with tears that he didn't remember crying. He had no idea how long he'd been that way, but somehow he felt better.

"No more," he said to himself. "You're not going to win."

Dean got to his feet and squared his shoulders. He looked back at the pine tree across the pond and willingly pictured the man who had attacked him. Dean envisioned him, not as the beast his mind had been seeing all these years, but as the small, sick human that he really was.

"I've fought better than you and won, you sonofabitch," Dean said to the vision in front of him. "You're a sick motherfucker who doesn't deserve the amount of thought I've given you. You didn't take anything away from me. I gave it up for a while, but I'm taking it back and I hope you rot in Hell."

oooOOOooo

After giving himself some time to settle down, Dean went looking for Alex and Nicholas. They were in the den with Tom, watching cartoons. As soon as Alex saw Dean, his face lit up. Dean sat with them for a little while, then suggested they go into town for ice cream. The boys slipped into their coats while Dean went looking for Sam to invite him to come along.

Dean found him in the office with Kristine, their expressions somber.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"The boys really don't have any family," Sam said sadly.

"That sucks."

"I called the group home in Atlanta and there's room for them there. The home's attorney started on the paperwork," Kristine said. "We just have to get them there. Maybe Tom –"

"We can take them."

Sam looked at his brother, surprised. "We can?"

"Yeah."

Dean saw Sam glance at Kristine before he nodded. "Sure. If you want to."

The entire group decided to go into town for ice cream and after the boys finished their cones, Dean took them to the toy store down the street. He wanted to make sure Nicholas got a new Lightning McQueen toy.

---

"You okay?" Kristine asked Sam once they were alone at the table. Tom had decided to go to the toy store with Dean and the boys.

Sam nodded. "Yeah. It's just weird to see Dean bond with those kids."

"Is it really?" she pressed. "He's just acting like a big brother."

"I guess you're right," Sam consented and smiled. "But they can't have him. He's my big brother."

Kristine laughed. "So, it looks like you did an okay job with Dean after I took the kids inside."

Sam shrugged. "I guess. Did you see his eyes when he found us in the office? He looked like he'd been crying."

"I saw," she confirmed quietly. "But he needed to. Tears are a good thing."

"He seems better now. I know it's not over, though."

"No," Kristine agreed. "But he's making progress. How are you handling what he told you?"

Sam took a deep breath. "I don't know. I really hate that he did what he did for money – money to take care of me. And that's what led to him being attacked. What do I do with that, Kristine?"

"I'm sure it's easier said than done, but you shouldn't think about it that way. You've always known that Dean would go to any length to make sure that you were okay. I guess this is just more evidence of that."

"I hate what happened to him," Sam grumbled.

"I think it's okay to let him see that anger as long as you make sure he knows it's not directed at him."

"I'd never let him think I was mad at him over this."

"I know that. But don't assume anything and don't take anything for granted."

Sam nodded, looking pensive. Kristine pretended to be interested in the mug of cocoa she had chosen instead of ice cream and left him to his thoughts for a few minutes.

"Are you sure you're all right?" she prompted once the mug was empty.

"I'm fine. I just….this is _Dean_. I guess the thought that he'd willingly seek out men for money, before trying anything else –"

"Sam, no. He didn't walk out of your home one day with the idea. He took a shortcut through a park and the opportunity presented itself."

"That's what he said, but do you really think that's what happened?"

Kristine couldn't pretend that she hadn't thought about that possibility, but she'd chosen to discount it. "Would it matter?"

"It….I don't know."

"Sam, he's still your brother. And you've known all your life that he keeps secrets. It doesn't mean he cares about you any less. For whatever reason, he's afraid of losing your acceptance and he keeps things close to the vest that he thinks might lead to that. And honestly, I'm not sure if his initial intentions are important any more."

"Maybe not." Sam sat back in his chair and sighed. "You realize we let Dean go to a toy store unsupervised."

"Good point," she smiled. "What were we thinking?"

---

"Are you sure about driving the boys to Atlanta?" Kristine asked Dean when they were alone in the cottage later.

"Yeah, why not?"

Kristine handed him a beer and sat on the couch next to him. "No reason; I just wanted to make sure. I heard Alex telling Nicholas all about the Impala."

Dean smiled fondly. "He's a good kid. And he's got a hard road in front of him. Growing up without parents, knowing what he does now….and his little brother is going to need him. I just….I want to spend some time with him; make sure he knows he's got someone on his side."

"You know, it would be okay if you kept in touch with him, too. Maybe visited once in a while. You could be a big help to him."

"You really think so?"

"Dean, you understand exactly what he's going through. You know that and that's why you want to spend time with him."

"You're a mind reader now?" he joked.

Kristine shrugged and leaned against him. "Are you coming back here after you drop them off?"

"You're not getting sick of me being here?"

"Maybe a little," she said smiling at him. "But I like Sam."

Dean saw the twinkle in her eye. He'd known she wasn't serious, but it was nice to see it on her face. He held her close and she nuzzled the crook of his neck. "I adore you, Dean Winchester."

oooOOOooo

Atlanta was only a four hour drive from Mountain Ridge, but Dean had a stop at a zoo planned. Kristine had liked the idea when he ran it past her and Sam, though surprised, had no problems with it.

"Hey, Dean?" He looked toward Alex, who was picking at the French fries on his lunch plate. Nicholas had insisted on going to the bathroom with Sam.

"Yeah?" Dean put his burger down.

"What's this place like? Where we're going?"

"I've never been there, but Kristine says it's a good place. Other kids live there and people who know about the same things as me and Sam, so you'll be safe."

"I miss my mom and dad."

Dean felt a lump in his throat. "I know you do. I miss my mom and dad, too. But there will be people at the group home to take care of you and Nicholas. It's all going to work out."

"Will you come to visit us?" Alex asked, his eyes planted firmly on his plate.

"Would you like me to?"

"Yeah," Alex looked up slowly and Dean saw the tears in his eyes.

"Then I will. And you have my number. The people at the home will have it, too. If you need anything, all you have to do is call."

Alex nodded.

"I promise, okay?"

"I'm scared, Dean."

"I know you are. And it's okay to be scared, but I promise that everything will be all right."

Alex nodded again.

Dean reached out and laid a hand on the little boy's arm. "And if things aren't okay, if anything happens, anything at all, you just have to call me, okay?"

Alex slipped off of his chair and moved closer to Dean before wrapping his arms around Dean's neck. Dean held him close and whispered assurances into his ear.

---

They spent another hour at the zoo before getting back on the road. During the extensive tour of the group home Alex was never more than a few steps away from Dean and Nicholas held fast to his big brother's hand. Sam followed behind, keeping an eye on his own brother.

He knew that Dean didn't want to leave the boys right away, but it had been agreed that would be best for them in the long run. After helping them unpack their few belongings, including the new Lighting McQueen toy Dean had gotten for Nicholas, the Winchesters knew it was time to go. Sam distracted Nicholas while Dean sat on the edge of one of the twin beds and pulled Alex close to him.

"You remember what I said earlier, okay? If you need me, you call. You can call Sam or Kristine, too, okay? Kristine isn't that far away and she'll always know how to get in touch with me."

Alex nodded.

Dean reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a Batman action figure. "When I was a kid, I was really into Batman. Sometimes our dad had to leave me and Sam alone and there were times I'd have to go out for a little while after Sam was asleep. I'd put my Batman toy in bed with him so if he woke up while I was gone, he'd know that he was safe and I'd be back. I'm gonna leave this with you so you know that I'll be back."

Alex took the toy and hugged Dean. "Thank you."

A few minutes later Sam and Dean were in the Impala, headed back to North Carolina.

"You okay?" Sam asked his brother.

"Yeah. I feel bad for those kids, though. It's not going to be easy."

"No, it's not. But they've got a lot of people on their side. Hey, they've got you on their side and that's really all they need."

"So, Sammy," Dean began, ignoring his brother's comment. "I figured we could stay in North Carolina another few days, but you gotta find us a job because if I don't kill something soon, I'm gonna go crazy."

"I'll start looking in the morning," Sam promised.

---

"Hey, Sam?" Dean asked after nearly half an hour of nothing but the sound of the car radio.

"Yeah?"

"That stuff I told you….We're okay, right?"

"Of course we are." Sam looked at him. "I've told you that, but I'll keep saying it until you believe me."

Dean didn't speak again for long enough that Sam thought he was already done with the conversation.

"I went to the pond after we talked."

Sam waited, seeing Dean's hand tighten on the steering wheel.

"I did a lot of thinking. And remembering. Can't say that I cared for it all that much," he said and smiled sadly at his brother. "I've thought a lot about that guy and I used to think that I'd like to just beat the shit out of him; make him feel the fear and pain that I did. I realized something, though."

"What's that?" Sam asked, his throat feeling tight.

"He probably already feels fear. He probably feels it every day of his life and that's why he does what he does. If he wasn't afraid, he wouldn't have to drug people and tie them up. I walked out of that park and went back to people who love me. He probably doesn't have that – even if he has a family, no one who knows what he did could really love him. Don't get me wrong; I don't feel sorry for him. I still want him to suffer for what he did to me, but I think he's doing just that."

Sam fought back the tears that he felt burning his eyes. It wasn't often that Dean let him see this side of his; the sensitive, insightful side and it always surprised him when it came out.

"I want to keep an eye on Alex and Nicholas," Dean continued. "And I want to go visit them; check up on them, ya know?"

Sam cleared his throat and nodded. "Yeah, I think that's a good idea."

"And seriously, dude, I gotta kill something evil soon."

Sam smiled to himself. He knew that one of this ways his brother dealt with frustration was to take it out on the creatures they hunted. He would find a hunt for them near Mountain Ridge; something easy and relatively safe where Dean could burn off some energy without them being in too much danger in case he had another panic attack. Sam thought that they would probably not plague Dean now that he seemed to be openly dealing with his past, but it was always better not to take too many chances.

He looked toward Dean and saw that he looked more at ease than he had in a while. His hand was resting lightly on the steering wheel and his posture was more relaxed than even a few minutes ago. He reached for the volume control on the radio and turned it up slightly. Sam didn't think it was in an effort to drown out further conversation, but because the song currently playing was one of his favorites.

Things weren't perfect, but they were better and seeing his brother more calm allowed Sam to be more at ease. He settled more comfortably into the seat, resting his head on the back of it, ready to enjoy the rest of the trip back to North Carolina.

_Fin _


End file.
